"Don't be afraid, Jeekum," said Neil reassuringly. "You forgot the door and we've been having a little fun with the jury. That's all!"
The nervous whiteness left Jeekum's face at this cheerful report and he was about to close the door when Nathaniel exhibited a handful of gold pieces in the candle-light and frantically beckoned the man to come in. The jailer's eyes glittered understandingly and with a backward glance down the lighted corridor he thrust his head and shoulders inside.
"Five hundred dollars for that note!" he whispered. "Five hundred beside the four you've got!"
"Jeekum's a fool!" said Neil, as the door closed on them. "I feel sorry for him."
"Why?"
"Because he is accepting the money. Don't you suppose that you have been searched? Of course you have—probably before I came, while you were half dead on the floor. Somebody knows that you have the gold."
"Why hasn't it been taken?"
For a full minute Neil made no answer. And his answer, when it did come, first of all was a laugh.
"By George, that's good!" he cried exultingly. "Of course you were searched—and by Jeekum! He knows, but he hasn't made a report of it to Strang because he believes that in some way he will get hold of the money. He is taking a big risk—but he's winning! I wonder what his first scheme was?"
"Thought I'd bury it, perhaps," vouchsafed Nathaniel, throwing himself upon the straw. "There's room for two here, Neil."