are of it. In the cave where he had stored his cargo
and prepared it for smuggling, he kept a large can of cheap and highly
inflammable oil on a rock shelf, just above the flat stone where he, by
the light of two lamps, had counted his wealth time and again. True to
his nature, when he bought the oil he bought the cheapest, and unknown
to him the can had sprung a leak and while he had been absent for weeks
at a time, the oil had run out, saturating the rock below and forming
little pools on the cave floor among the loose stones. Wolf had not
noticed this, or, if he had, had thought nothing of it. Neither did he
realize how fate could utilize his miser's instinct in purchasing the
cheap can as a means to bring together and bless two lives unknown to
him. We seldom do notice the snags in life that usually trip us.

By the time the last voyage of the Sea Fox had been made and she
returned to The Pocket, the relations between Wolf and the Indian were
in danger of rupture. Wolf distrusted his partner, and yet believed he
had lulled all suspicion. He had never failed before in duping any one
he had set out to; why should he in this case? Still, he was uneasy and
resolved to end it all as soon as possible. But Indians have one
peculiarity that will baffle even the shrewdest Jew. They never talk.
Their faces are always as expressionless as a graven image. While
contemplating the most cruel murder they never show the least change in
expression, nor do their eyes show the faintest shadow of an emotion.
They are stolid, surly and Sphinx-like always. Wolf's partner was like
his race, and not even by the droop of an eyelid did he betray the
slowly gathering storm of hate and rage within. He brooded over the
hurt he felt when Wolf had wanted to buy his sloop, and believing the
Jew meant to rob him of her, he grew suspicious and watched Wolf. Not by
word or sign did he show it, and the Jew saw it not. Wolf watched the
Indian as closely, only the Indian knew it, and Wolf did not. It was now
Wolf against fox and fox against Wolf, and the swarthy fox was getting
the best of it. Meanwhile the loading of the sloop for her final
departure proceeded.

Wolf had planned to use the Indian's help to the last, and when all was
ready, enter the cave, secure the money about his person and sail away.
The cave entrance was under water for about two hours of high tide, and
Wolf waited until a day came when the tide served early. He had planned
to go