he
was livin' easy. Oh! You're surprised. You'd better be. For that's the
God's truth, _mon ami_."

"You mean--he--he----" Peter's credulity was strained and he failed to
finish his query.

"Oh, you don't believe? Well, you needn't. But there's no blackmail when
you only take what belongs to you. The money--the money that made his
millions was as much mine as his. I'm going to have my share with
compound interest for fifteen years--and perhaps a bit more."

"You surprise me. But it seems that if there's any justice in your
claim, you could establish it legally."

Jim Coast laughed again.

"There's a quicker--a safer way than that. I'm takin' it." He filled his
glass again and went on, leaning far over the table toward Peter.
"_Voyons_, Pete. When we came ashore, I made you an offer to play my
game. You turned me down. It's not too late to change your mind. The old
man trusts you or he wouldn't of sent you out with that money. I may
need some help with this business and you're fixed just right to lend me
a hand. Throw in with me, do what I want, and I'll see that you're fixed
for life."

Peter shook his head slowly from side to side.

"No, Jim. He pays me well. I'm no traitor."

"H-m. Traitor!" he sneered. "_He_ wasn't overparticular about _you_. He
might of killed you or _I_ might of, if you hadn't been too damn quick
for me. What do you think Mike McGuire cares about _you_?" he laughed
bitterly.

"Nothing. But that makes no difference. I----"

A loud jangle of a bell from the corner and Jim Coast sprang to his
feet.

"The telephone," explained Peter, indicating the instrument. "That's
McGuire now." He rose and moved toward it, but Coast caught him by the
arm.

"Worried, eh?" he said with a grin. "Wants to know what's happened! All
right. Tell him--tell the----." And then, as Peter released himself,
"Wait a minute. Tell him you've got me here," laughed Coast, "a
prisoner. Tell him I'm talking. Ask for instructions. He'll tell you
what to do with me, damn quick," he sneered.

Peter waited a moment, thinking, while the bell tinkled again, and then
took down the receiver. He was in no mood to listen to McGuire.

"Hello--Yes, this is Nichols.... All right, yes. Shot at from the
dark--while paying the money. You hit Hawk Kennedy in the shoulder....
Yes, _you_. I'm no fool, McGuire.... He's here--at the Cabin. I've just
fixed his shoulder----. All right----. What shall I do with him----?
Yes--Yes, he's ta