Leroyd glared at him like an angry bull dog but said nothing.
“Now I s’pose,” continued Weeks, cocking his eye at the smoke begrimmed ceiling of the bar room, “that you expect to get a vessel an’ go in pursuit of the Silver Swan; and that when you’ve got her you’ll tow her in port, an’ you’ll have the salvage—that’ll be a pretty good sum.”
“And the di’monds,” interjected Arad, with an avaricious chuckle.
“Oh, will you?” said Weeks with cool sarcasm. “That remains to be seen. You’ll have the brig fast enough: but how’ll you get the stones?”
“Why, ef we git the brig won’t the diamonds be aboard her?” queried Arad.
“Yes, they will; but where will they be, aboard her? Can you tell me that?”
Arad’s jaw fell and he stared blankly at the shrewd Weeks. Even Leroyd was visibly moved by this statement.
“You don’t know where the diamonds are hidden,” continued Weeks, pursuing his advantage. “You might tear that whole brig to pieces an’ not find ’em, but I know just where they are and I can put my hand right on ’em!”
“You kin?” gasped old Arad.
“Is that straight, Sneaky?” demanded Leroyd, with interest.