As I fell in behind them, following almost in their tracks, I discovered that they were following no trail, but were making a new way to the beach.  And when they came to where the going was easy they rushed ahead in such a panic that I suspected they were in flight from Thirkle, and when they began to argue over the direction they should take I realized that they were running away from Thirkle.  They were stealing a sack of the gold and making for the boats to escape with it.

“Bear to port, I say!” said Long Jim.  “Keep off the old road, or ye’ll have the beggar after us.  Keep to port if ye know what’s good for us.”

They let down their burden again, and I saw Long Jim stoop to peer back; but I was off on their flank again, and kept well concealed.

I was in a quandary now as to what to do.  It might be better for us to let them escape, for then we would have only Thirkle and Buckrow to fight, and a sack of gold mattered but little.  Yet I knew that they might take both boats; and then Captain Riggs and I and Rajah would be marooned on the island, except for the raft, which was not a fit craft to put to sea in.

We would be but little better off on the mainland, and it would be weeks, probably months, before we could be rescued by a vessel, or could reach a native town on the coast.  I had a mind to fire on them; but I did not know where Thirkle was, and I was afraid of Captain Riggs getting lost if he set out in search of me on hearing the shots.

“Told ye that, did he?” asked Long Jim.  “Told ye to do for me, hey?”

“That was the lay,” said Petrak.  “Told me he’d send ye down the trail with me, and to keep drawed up close to ye; and when I see my chance to hook a knife into ye, and be sure and make a clean job of it.

“But I’m no man for that, Jim.  Mind when ye split a bob with me in Riccolo’s boardin’-house in St. Paul’s Square?  I don’t do for no man what split a bob with me, and we was shipmates before we ever knowed Thirkle; and we’ll be shipmates again, Jim.”

“With this ’ere?” asked Long Jim.  “Ye think I’d look at a bloody ship short of bein’ owner myself, when we get away with this sack of guineas?  It’s a pub for the two of us in Liverpool, down near the Regent Docks, like gentlemen, or I’m a beggar.”

“Blow me if I didn’t forget about the gold!” said Petrak, laughing.  “But I meant it the way of shipmates, Jim:  and that’s why I couldn’t do for no such as he said.  ’Hook yer knife in him, quick and sharp, under the kidneys,’ says Thirkle to me.  He says he’ll make a gent of me, being as there would be only himself and Bucky and me left.  There’d be upwards of ten thousand pounds, man and man, share and share alike, and all the same.

“That’s Thirkle for ye, Jim—­that’s Thirkle.  It was all fine long as we didn’t make no great hauls, just enough for a bit of a good time ashore; but now we’re rich, and he wants to shut us honest chaps that helped get it out of the cup, up.