CHAPTER VIII.
THE ATTACK ON THE AIR-SHIP.
Nicodemus had expected something of this kind from the moment he had first seen Dooley on the spot. He knew that trouble could not be averted.
The latter rascal, for such he really was, was keen enough to read all this in Beere’s face.
He was backed by a dozen hardy men himself, and he did not believe that the captain was so well supported. So he was uppish.
Beere gazed steadily at the other for a moment after this virtual declaration of war, and said:
“The largest share of that gold belongs to me. You shall have a fair share. Is not that fair enough?”
“My friend,” said Dooley bluffly, “mighty little of that gold you’ll see, I can tell you. It belongs to me. I claim it and shall divide it as I see fit.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“You are a scoundrel!”