“We’ll start fair and square again, mates, as we did when we first put our heads together for this fortune, and no grudges and all equal now, as the worst of the work is over and the next is to get away with it, easy enough if ye let me pilot the job.  In a month we’ll be in London, and ye and Reddy, with a pub all yer own, and living at ease like gentlemen.”

“All equal from this on, Thirkle?  Each has his say, and one as good as the other?”

“Nothing without a council and two votes to decide, so ye two’ll be yer own masters, having the two votes against me, with my advice for help.  There’s fifty thousand pounds for each of us, and we’ll separate in London and go our own ways if ye like.  I’ll swear a black oath to that, and my word’s good, as ye both know.

“Did I ever break it to ye?  Didn’t I always cut the loot as I agreed?  I’m Thirkle, and when I say a thing I mean it.  Now, Bucky, think it over before it’s too late.  Will ye go it alone, or will ye give me a fair play at the game, and come out with yer life and a fair share of the gold?  It’s for you to decide, and see ye don’t make a mistake.”

“No arms for ye, split three ways, and do as we please when we’re away clear with the gold?” asked Buckrow.

“That’s it, Bucky.  That’s what I said and what I say, and I’ll stick to it.”

“Swear to it, and nothing in yer mind.”

“I swear to it and nothing in my mind.  It’s a square enough thing, and I never laid to do for ye as ye think.  It was all a mistake, Bucky.”

Buckrow began to whisper with Petrak again, and Thirkle held his hands up and called to them sharply:  “Here!  Cut this rope!”

Petrak started for Thirkle with a sheath-knife, but Buckrow pulled him back.

“I’ll let him go,” he said.  “This is my job, Thirkle,” continued Buckrow, approaching his prisoner.  “I’m atween two minds with ye, and one is to slit yer neck, as I won’t deny; but ye’re a sharp cuss, and I guess ye can do this work better than I can.  But I want to say to ye now, if ever ye turn on me after this ye’re a dog.

“I’ll take my chance with ye, but ye bear me no love, and I know it; and ever ye reach for a knife or a gun, mind that I don’t see ye.  It’s play fair from now on, but show a claw and yer done for if I can do it.”

He stooped down and slipped the blade of his knife through the bonds he had put upon Thirkle, and then stepped away from him, with the knife held in guard, as if he expected the pirate to leap at him once he had his hands free.

But Thirkle sat still for a few minutes, rubbing his wrists, and then called for the bottle.  Petrak handed it to him, and he sipped the brandy and bathed his wounded head with it, sending Reddy to a pool of water at the base of the cliff to wet his handkerchief, and then bound it around his head.

“It looks bad, but it didn’t hurt much, Bucky,” he said, smiling.  “What hurt me more was to have ye turn on me the way ye did; but that’s all passed and gone, and we won’t mention it again.”