“We’ve got the gold, Bry!”
“I know. I see you in de wood; I follow your footprints all way home; I see you climbin’ up rock. Den I see de sand been dig up, so I knew you got gold.”
“Did they suspect us at all, Bry?”
“No, Mars Sam. Dey too busy tryin’ to kill each other. All want to have gold for himself, so all try to kill everyone else. Very bad mans, Mars Sam.”
“They’re going to take you on the ship, and make you sail it,” said I.
Bry laughed, silently.
“I stay with them now, so they not find you,” he said. “But when right time come I steal away an’ come back to you. Did you fill sack with sand, Mars Sam?” glancing enquiringly at the stuffed trousers.
“Yes.”
“That good,” said Bry, approvingly. “They dig up one, when they come back, to see if all safe. Then they hide it again. Very good way to fool bad mans.”
“But we can’t leave here until they go away,” I remarked.