He twisted out of it like an eel. I took it from him, turned it inside out, and opened my pocket knife. Carefully I ripped the lining at the seams. From a kind of pocket I drew an envelope. Out of the envelope I took the map that had been so closely connected with the history of Doubloon Spit.
When I say the men were surprised, I do them less than justice. One could have knocked their eyes off with a stick.
"Crikey! I didn't know that was there," Jimmie cried.
It had been Evelyn's idea to sew the map in Jimmie's coat, since that was the last place the mutineers would think of looking for it. While he had been peacefully sleeping Miss Wallace had done so neat a piece of tailoring that Jimmie did not suspect the garment had been tampered with.
We had, however, taken the precaution to take a copy of the map. During all the desperate fighting it had been lying in a shell snugly fitted into one of the chambers of a revolver in Yeager's room.
"Beg pardon, sir. Did the boy have the map with him while he was Mr. Bothwell's prisoner?" asked Gallagher.
"He did; but he didn't know it."
"Glad he didn't, sir, because if he had that devil would have got it out of him."
"Which no doubt would have distressed you greatly," I answered dryly.
"I'm on the honest side now, sir," the sailor said quietly.