ps,
and Thirkle's A No. 1, and we got the gold to stow."

"Don't come no bos'n manners to me," retorted Buckrow savagely. "I ain't
goin' to stand for none such from ye, Red. Yer sidin' with Thirkle, and I
know that, and I'm as good a man as Thirkle; and I'm boss here, even or
no even. I'm boss! Understand that? Thirkle and ye can have yer votes if
ye want; but I'm boss, and I'll drill the two of ye."

"Ye ain't goin' to fight, be ye Bucky?"

"I'll put all hands under ground--that's what, if ye don't turn to; and
there's too much gammin' and gabbin' here to suit me, I'd have ye know."

Petrak looked at Thirkle as if in doubt about Buckrow's sanity, and
Thirkle gave him a look that seemed to me to be a message, and he made a
furtive signal which I was not able to interpret.

"Steady as she goes, mates; steady as she goes," purred Thirkle. "This is
no time to quarrel. We'll have a gunboat down on us if we don't get
away soon, and there's a lot to do yet before we leave. Let Bucky alone,
Red."

"Then ye and the writin' chap lay on and move lively," snarled Buckrow,
and Thirkle had me take hold of a sack behind him, and, with him leading
the way, we carried it into the miniature canon.

The sacks were heavy, but were bound with ropes which served as handles,
and were not hard to move until we got into the narrow cleft, where I
found that my shoulders bumped along the walls as I swayed from side to
side, or missed my footing on the damp, slippery ground.

Buckrow and Petrak followed us in with another sack, and when Thirkle had
gone as far as he could he pulled our sack forward under his feet and
stowed it in the angle where the walls joined. Then I had to pass the
second sack on to him, taking it from Petrak, who was next to me, and
then we turned in our tracks and went out again.

The brush on the top of the cliff overlapped the crevice, so that it was
quite dark a few feet from the entrance. The walls were slippery with a
thick, funguslike moss, from which cool water dripped.

"That gold will rust in here sure as a nigger's black," grumbled Buckrow,
as he felt his way out. "I don't like this place at all."

"Best place on the island," whispered Thirkle. "Tell him it's the best
place on the island, Reddy."

"It's the best place on the island, Bucky. I don't see as we could do
better."

"I don't care what ye think of it; I say it'll rust in there," said
Buckrow.

"You had better go in backward this time," sa