"Easy," Duane said, and patted the worn butt of his gun. Belton slumped back over the fire and began to mutter to himself.
Shafer had taken another pull at the flask. A feverish light was coming into his dull eyes.
"Furs," he snorted contemptuously. "Dirty, stinkin' furs! Who gives a damn about furs? Why, I got a corner on all the wealth in the world. The overlords will be beggin' after me some day. I'm richer than all the stars 'cause I got what everybody wants."
"I knew a guy who talked like that once," put in Duane softly. "He was singin' a tune just like that in a two-bit bar. But he didn't have money enough to pay for his last drink and they threw him out into the street."
"Shut up." Captain smiled, confident that Duane had played into his hand. "Never mind this cynic."
Shafer looked at Duane and tried to sneer. "Think I'm lyin', eh? Well, you'll see. I used to own my own boat, I did. An' I found a mine, a nice, floatin' mine. I didn't have to stake it, 'cause I'm the only one who knows where it is."
"Sure," said Captain.
"Tons and tons of uranium." Shafer turned the words over in his mouth as though they were bon-bons.
"Sure," said Captain softly. "Enough for all. We'll live like kings."
Shafer straightened and looked about him, frightened. His eyes dulled again. "You're trying to get me to talk. No, it's mine. All mine. I found it. Nobody else knows where it is."