"The police will know," insisted Bela. "They can smell blood. Bam-by maybe you mad at each ot'er. One will tell."
This was a shrewd shot. The three scowled at each other furtively. There was no confidence between them.
"Well—what do you want to do?" asked Jack uneasily.
"I give him to the police," stated Bela eagerly. "They comin' up the river now. Come every year this tam. Then all will be known. It is not my fault he tak' me away. I good girl."
"Maybe she wants to get him to marry her," suggested Joe.
"No marry!" cried Bela with a fine assumption of anger. "He throw me down! Speak bad to me! I hate him! I want punish!"
"Sounds fishy somehow," muttered Jack, hesitating.
"You come wit' me," she said, shrugging. "See all I do."
"Maybe the idea is to get us away from the boat so he can sneak back and swipe it," suggested Joe.