“It’s just on sundown,” said Hank, “and if he’s not here in another half hour, we’ll have to stick the night. Can’t get all these tents moved in the dark, and I’m not going to leave ’em. It’s ten to one we’ll stick till morning, and I’m not going to have those jewels stay the night with us. Something would happen sure. Maybe those greasers would come back with more men to help them.”
“Not they. They won’t stop running till next week.”
“All the same these things have played us a good many tricks and I want to stop their game.”
“Are you superstitious?” asked Tommie.
“Not a bit, only I’ve got a hunch that they’re better on board.”
“Oh, then, take them, take them,” said George, “if you must. And see here, you’d better bring off those two automatics and some cartridges in case we don’t get off to-night and those scamps make trouble.”
“Sure,” said Hank.
Off he started calling the Chinks to man the boat, whilst George and Tommie set to and began to build the fire.
Tommie, every now and then, took a glance towards the cliffs as though the absence of Candon were worrying her. When Hank came back he found them seated by the fire with the supper things spread, but no Candon.