“Sure. And once there, we could defy an army,” returned Daggett. “Then we can make our raft, row out to where the ship is, and sail away home.”
Larkin gave a rude laugh, ending it with an oath.
“There’ll be some tall cussin’ in the camp,” he said.
“Major’ll be crazy,” assented Daggett.
“I swiped every grain o’ gold he had, while he lay a-snorin’,” chuckled Hayes, a big ruffian who was called “Dandy Pete,” in derision, because he was so rough and unkempt. “Pity we couldn’t ’a’ got all there was in camp.”
“There’s enough to make us all rich, my boys, anyhow,” remarked Larkin. “It’s nearly broke my back, luggin’ of it, an’ there’s only four of us to divide.”
At this they seemed to grow thoughtful, and all sat silently smoking for several minutes.
“What bothers me,” said Judson, breaking the silence, “is how we’re to get that blasted ship into some civilized port. There ain’t a man here as knows anything about sailin’.”
“That’s all right,” said Larkin, confidently. “The sun rises in the east, don’t it? Well, all we’ve got to do is h’ist the sails and let the wind blow us towards the east. Some time or other we’ll get to the American continent, and then we can run down the coast to ’Frisco. It’s no trouble to sail a ship.”
“We’ve got to get away, somehow,” grumbled Judson, “or our gold won’t be of any use to us. When are we going to divide?”