“Well—one of the Englishmen.”
But the Englishmen were not at hand. A friendly bout between yellow and white overstepped their code. One of the customs men, an Australian, accepted the responsibility, however.
“I'll lay you a thousand, even,” said Rocky Kane.
“Make it two thousand.”
“I'll give you two thousand, even,” said Dawley Kane quietly.
“Taken! Three thousand, altogether—gold.”
The mate, turning away from the mandarin, caught this; stood motionless looking at them, his brows drawing together.
“Gentlemen,” he finally remarked, “I came here with the understanding that it was to be only a little private exercise. I had no objection, of course, to your looking on, some of you, but this....”
“Oh, come!” said Connor. “It's just for points. Tom's not going to fight you.”
Young Kane, gripping the rope nervously with both hands, cried: “You wouldn't quit!”