“No you’re not, you’re Hank Fisher.”
Hank went off a few yards and sat down on the sand and folded his arms and brooded. His good soul had been hit and hit hard. Even while defending Candon, he recognised the logic of the situation, pointing to the almost unbelievable fact that Candon, yielding to his worst nature, had bolted. Bolted, leaving them stranded on that beach.
He could not but recognise that for a man in Candon’s position, leaving morality aside, the move was a good one. His return to San Francisco was impossible, McGinnis would merely turn evidence against him. Leaving the Vanderdecken business aside, there was the wrecking of the junk; the Wear Jack herself was attainted. All sorts of new ideas began to turn somersaults in Hank’s mind as this fact burst fully for the first time on his intelligence.
“Bud,” he shouted, “come here and sit. Where’s T. C.? Call her. Sit down.”
They came and sat down.
“Folks,” said Hank, “here’s a new tangle. Hasn’t it ever struck into you that the old Jack’s n’more use to us than an opera hat to a bull. Those movie men don’t know her name, but they know her make and that she went south, see? And every yacht coming up from the south anythink like her will be overhauled by the coastguard, see? Well, suppose we’d put back in her, getting along for the Islands, the coastguard would have been sure to board us, they’d have found T. C. aboard and we’d have been dished, straight.”
“I hadn’t thought it out like that before,” said George. “I thought we could have slipped up to ’Frisco and then told some yarn.”
Tommie said nothing. The colour had almost returned to her face, but she seemed like a person slightly dazed. No wonder. Despite, or maybe partly because of his confession to her, partly because of his evident care for her and partly because of her newborn affection for him, she would have trusted B. C. with anything, her life, her money, anything—this man who had betrayed her, betrayed Bud and Hank, taken their ship and left them stranded on a hostile beach.
“Well, we couldn’t,” said Hank. “The fact is the Wear Jack was no use to us and maybe it was Providence that made B. C. let us down.”