“If you move I’ll kill you!” I said, having a mind to take him and compel him to lead Riggs and me to Thirkle’s camp.

“Don’t shoot!” he whined.  “Don’t shoot!  Where did ye git the gun, sir?  We never knowed as how ye had it.  Don’t shoot, Mr. Trenhum!  Ye mind how I took yer luggage aboard!”

“Where’s Thirkle and Buckrow?” I demanded.

“Up there,” he said, swinging his free hand in the direction we had come, and I saw the familiar crafty look come into his eyes.

“How far?”

“Quite a bit, sir; in a cut of a clift with the booty.”

“How far?”

“Not far it ain’t, Mr. Trenhum.  Roundaboutish, but not far; and I’m thinkin’ I might lead ye on to ’em, sir, if ye’d let me have the sack we had, sir.  Ye done for Jim right enough, but that’s my sack now.”

“Throw down that knife and unbuckle your belt, and see that you don’t reach for a pistol,” I said.

There was something in his manner that led me to believe he had a trap for me; either he had seen Long Jim move, or thought Thirkle and Buckrow might come down upon us if he could keep me talking.

He dropped the knife, and as he reached for the buckle of the belt I turned my head in an involuntary movement to make sure that Long Jim had not recovered, an action bred by the suspicious manner of Petrak.  The pirate was lying as he had fallen, with his arms over his head and his pistol a yard away; but the little red-headed man turned and ran in the flash of my eye.  I fired at him as he scurried behind a sprawling hemp-tree, but missed; and he never stopped, and I stood and listened as he crashed through the brush.

It would have been senseless to pursue him.  As he had kept on toward the beach, away from the direction of Thirkle’s camp, I knew he was not going back to the others, and reasoned that he would hardly dare to return to Thirkle, who had probably missed the sack of gold, or would demand explanations which Petrak would have difficulty in giving.

I picked up the knife and went and looked at Long Jim.  Seeing he was dead I took his pistols; but gave him scant attention, being afraid Thirkle or Buckrow might be about, investigating the sound of the shots.  Petrak’s estimates on the distance of their hiding-place had been rather vague.

I turned away to the west in the direction I felt sure the trail must be, and, when the ground was clear, ran as fast as I could.  I made about half a mile in as straight a line as I could, and then began to worry; for, although the ground had sloped in front of me, I felt that I should have crossed the bed of the stream which was the trail we had followed.

I kept on, my face and hands scratched by prickly vines and my clothing torn by fighting through thickets, and a panic began to grow on me that I was lost, although I refused to admit it.  I soon had to stop running from exhaustion, the torment of the heat and thirst; and the four big pistols dragged at my belt and the ammunition in my pockets began to hang heavy.  I began to fear that darkness would come on before I could find the trail.