d green
fronds, for the cliffside was wet and dripping, and veiled with
mosses.

"Got it in yer old skull that Bucky was a fool, hey?" said Buckrow,
blowing a cloud of smoke at Thirkle. "Well, I'm Bad Buckrow, and I was
Bad Buckrow afore ever I saw ye, and I had a bit of brains of my own
afore ever I met up with ye, Thirkle. Ye can bear that in mind. See how
ye come out when ye monkeyed with me. Them other two fools went off in
the wood and plugged one another, but that ain't me, Thirkle. Yer sharp,
Thirkle; ye always was a sharp one, but ye ain't sharp enough for Bucky,
and it's me that's tellin' ye that."

Thirkle made no reply, but kept his head down, staring at the rope in his
hands, as if he were considering some weighty problem.

"Wanted it all, hey?" went on Buckrow. "Think I'm goin' to put my neck in
a rope for ye and then let ye hog it all, hey? Maybe ye can fool the
others, but I'm Bad Buckrow, I am, and I don't let the like of you, Mr.
Thirkle, hang nothin' on me--leastways, not so easy as ye looked for.
Why, I had my eye on ye and every move ye made after ye sent Reddy and
Jim away to slit one another's throats! Thought I'd fall for it, did ye?
See what come of it? Ye see, don't ye? I'm Bad Buckrow."

Thirkle moved uneasily and cleared his throat, but did not lift his head
or give any answer. But, when he put his head to one side and shook it, I
saw a red patch on his scalp over his right ear, and a smear of blood
down his cheek. Then I realized that the rope over his hands made him a
prisoner, and that Buckrow had turned against him.

"Wanted to do for me too, did ye. I knew yer game, old boy! I saw them
eyes of yours on me, and murder in 'em, and it's me ought to know when
ye plan to cut a man down--I know Thirkle.

"Knew ye'd turn on me some day this way when we made it rich. The lot of
it was small pickin', but here's half o' London under our feet to be
split four ways; but ye wanted it all, and ye wanted us out of yer way so
ye could sleep o' nights. Nice game it was. Fine gent ye'd be, with all
of us dead here, and nobody to ever tell who Thirkle was, or about the
_Kut Sang_, or the others.

"Get away in the boats, ye would, and come back some day for the gold and
then cut it for London, prayin' yer way out of the country, and folks'd
wonder what come of the Devil's Admiral and his crew when no more ships
was lost the way we made 'em go."

"Don't worry me, Bucky," said Thirkle quietly.

"Don