"Schust a leetle, Parney—not much. It vos schust my share in der last boodle und der von pefore dot."
"Well, whatever it is, you'd better go and get it at once. If that revolver is gone, it isn't at all likely we'll want to visit this place again in a hurry."
"Dot vos so, Parney."
"Come on, then. Move the bunks aside. That's right—go ahead. I'll hold the light."
Jake squeezed his way behind the bunks, and throwing open the door, entered the inner vault, closely followed by Barney, bearing the light.
They took a step forward; but only to have the muzzles of two revolvers thrust into their faces, and to hear a voice, in stern and threatening tones, exclaim:
"You were looking for poor Charley Way's revolver a moment ago. Here it is! Will you have the contents now? You have only to move hand or foot, and they are yours, I swear it!"
"Old Spicer, by Jove!" ejaculated Barney, in a tone of chagrin.
"It vos, so 'elp me gracious!" groaned Jake, in a voice of despair.