“Then you die? You surely die?”
“You do, unless one very special antidote is applied.”
“Nobody in this country has that, though!”
“Nobody but myself, so far as I know.”
“You’ve got it?” demanded the captain, amazed. “Where the devil would you get it?”
“Out East, where you got that devilish kris! You haven’t forgotten that Parsee in Bombay, who gave me the secret cure, after I’d saved him from cholera? But that’s neither here nor there, captain! That kris is no thing to be experimenting with. Put it up now, I tell you! We aren’t going to have any foolishness, captain. Not at our age, mind you! Put it up, now.”
Unwillingly the captain obeyed. He hung the weapon up once more, while Filhiol eyed him with suspicious displeasure.
“It would be more to the point to see how we’re going to get the boy out of his trouble again,” the doctor reproved. “If you can’t meet this problem without doing something very foolish, captain, you’re not the man I think you!”
Briggs made no answer, but hailed:
“Ezra! Oh, Ezra!”