“More than that,” I warned him.  “You forget Captain Swope, and the tradesmen.  There are seven of them, aft, all armed, and of a fighting breed.  You are hinting at a silly business, Boston.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he persisted.  “Thirty to seven ain’t so bad.  And they haven’t all the arms—­we got our knives, ain’t we?  And maybe other things, too.”

“Forget it,” said I.  “Don’t imagine for a minute these stiffs will face guns.  You and your mate might, but as for the rest of the gang—­why, Lynch could clean them up single-handed.  Better stow that kind of talk.  It’s dangerous.  You have the law against you, and it’s a neck-stretching affair.”

“The law?” he echoed.  “What do you think that gang cares for the law?  Mighty few laws they ain’t broke in their time!  And they may be stiffs, right enough, but they’ll fight—­for money!”

“Dare say,” I remarked, sarcastically.  “And I suppose you’ll hire them with your bags of gold, which you probably have stowed under your bunk?”

“Well, now, maybe I’d just have to promise them something,” he said.  He glanced around, then leaned towards me and lowered his voice to a whisper.  “Shreve, there are a hundred thousand dollars in hard cash aft there in the cabin!”

“What’s that?” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” he said.  “I know.  You bet I know.  Blackie and me knew before ever we come on board this cursed hooker.  The Swede didn’t shanghai us, you bet!”

“Oh, stow that sort of guff, Boston,” I told him.  “Maybe the Swede didn’t shanghai you; but if he didn’t, it was because you and your mate were willing to ship with the devil himself in order to get out of the country.”

My words touched his temper, as I thought they would.  “You seem to know a lot more than I know myself,” he sneered.  Before I could answer, he regained control of his tongue, and continued with oily suavity.  “I guess the Big ’Un has been talking to you?  Hasn’t he?  I guess maybe he’s told you that Blackie and me are two men who can take a chance without weakening?  Say, Jack, what has the Big ’Un been saying to you about us?  I want particular to know.”

“He hasn’t said a blessed word about you,” I answered, truthfully.

Boston cursed, and favored me with an evil squint; then he hid the look behind a forced laugh.  “Well, If you don’t want to tell me, I guess you don’t have to,” he remarked.  “It don’t hurt me and Blackie none, whatever the Big ’Un says.  And say, Jack, you and us ought to be good friends.  Blackie and me know that you’re a good man, the kind that’ll take a chance, and keep his word.  Well, we’re the same.  There are only a few of us in this end of the ship that have any backbone to speak of, and we ought to stick together.  There’s pay-dirt in this ship if we only play the game right.”

“What do you mean?” I wanted to know.

But Boston concluded he had said almost enough for once.  He rapped his pipe against the hatch-combing to dislodge the dottle, and got to his feet.  I thought he was going to leave me without replying to my query, but after he had taken a step or two he spoke over his shoulder, softly.