“We had a mighty tough time for two days. But we were quit of that shadow. There were four of us to handle wheel and sail, and one was a cook. But the boys had shortened down before they went and we had to chance the rest. Anyway we got through. And after that the weather set dead fair and we crawled up the coast. But the shadow came again and somehow it worried me. Then I played my last trump. I told Jim Shan the story of the gold, and promised him equal shares with his friends if we got it through to the coast. Say, those boys. Ever see a Chink with the yearning for gold looking out of his queer, snake eyes? It’s not good to look at.
“Do you need more?” Julian Caspar shook his head as his queer eyes searched the implacable face of McLagan. “But of course you do. You’re the sort to want every ounce of your pound. Well, you can have it. I’m looking for that dog’s chance for more than one reason.”
He passed his manacled hands up to his shock of hair, and tried to run them back over it. Then they dropped again to his lap.
“The rest was easy—in a way. I set right in to work to change the vessel’s name, and it took me guessing hard. I had to think like hell not to leave a clue. Those boys helped me, and Jim Shan was the neatest hand with paint and a brush I ever located. He did it all right. And the vessel was sort of reborn the Limpet, an’ the name amused me. But it was the waiting around and watching those Chinks. Say, ever waited around with a bunch more used to knives than Bibles? Gee! Then there was that cursed shadow. Say, I’ve got nerve. But there’s things to break the best nerve if you only locate ’em. It was that shadow. There wasn’t a day I didn’t sit at that cabin table, with the alleyway facing me, that I couldn’t see that shadow traipsing—traipsing—Psha! I could have shut the door. I could have sat elsewhere. But someway I hadn’t the grit to do it. No, I had to keep an eye on that shadow all the time—and on those Chinks.”
“Well, it don’t signify now. I’d got it all fixed ready. We were making our getaway that night. Then I was eating my food. I’d been sitting watching the crazy antics of the shadow in the sun, and sudden I got sick in the pit of the stomach. I quit. I quit right there and hailed the Chinks. Well, those boys lasted long enough to crowd on every stitch of canvas. They lasted long enough to launch the motor with the gold and vittles stowed. They lasted long enough to clear the vessel’s side and head for the coast. Then they died quick. All four got lead poisoning, and I dropped ’em over the side. It was them or me, and I knew it. I wasn’t yearning. So I pumped ’em plumb up to the plimsol full of lead, and set ’em where their knives couldn’t reach me. Then——”
“You ran for the mouth of the Lias,” McLagan broke in. “You ran in and cached your stuff in a cave you didn’t reckon folks ’ud locate. And stowed your launch where you didn’t see anything but sea-fowl nosing.”
“You swine!”
McLagan nodded.
“That’s all right,” he said, straightening himself up. “Don’t worry for compliments. That’s not in the story. Yes. I’ve got your gold. There’ll be embargo on your credit at Victor Burns’ Bank. And the launch is away up on the Alsek River where its use in my oil workings’ll keep it in shape. But you’ve got your dog’s chance. I promised that, and you’re going to get it. It’s a hell of a poor-bred dog’s chance. Loose those irons, Len. I’ll hold him covered so there’s no monkeying. He reckons he’d like to translate his opinion of me into something more active. But he won’t. Loose him——”
“But—Say, you’re not going——?”