"And what the devil is a few hundred pounds of salvage to me?" growled Jim, hot with his exertion. "See here, man! I've left ten thousand behind me on the Pirate."
"And a pious regard fer the truth along wid it," added Chips, smiting the lug-bolt heavily.
Jim's face was so serious that I asked what he meant, and with the heat of the work upon him and the absolute hopelessness of ever getting back aboard our ship before his eyes, he spoke out:—
"Did you ever hear of Jackwell, the fellow who cracked the Bank of
Sydney?" he asked.
Chips and I both admitted that we had. He was the most notorious burglar in the southern hemisphere.
"But what are ye askin' sich a question fer?" asked Chips. "What's burglars got to do wid losin' salvage?"
"He was aboard the Pirate, and a reward awaits the lucky dog who lands him. Just a trifle of ten thousand dollars," said Jim, fiercely.
Chips turned on him.
"Is it sure 'nuff truth ye're tellin', or jest a yarn to soothe our feelin's?" he demanded. "I don't call to mind any gallus-lookin' chap in th' watch."
"He never stood watch, and I wasn't certain of him until we were out to sea and it was too late. What d'ye suppose I tried to get Trunnell to go back for? 'Twas the old man, you stupid wood-splitter. You don't think I'm a sailor, do you?"