The Devil's Admiral

by Frederick Ferdinand Moore

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE GOLD AND THE PIRATES

  Certain that Long Jim was dead, I turned on Petrak and presented mypistol at him. The little fiend was surveying me blankly, taken aback atthe sudden shot. He stood within twenty paces of me, with his legs wideapart and his knees bent as if he were on the deck of a plunging vessel,dismay on his face and the blade he had intended for my back held limplybefore him.

  I could see the butt of a big pistol hanging from his belt in a holsterhe had made from the top of an old shoe, but he made no motion to reachfor it. The fingers of his left hand were twitching, splayed out as iffrom fear, and his mouth was open showing his yellow teeth.

  "If you move I'll kill you!" I said, having a mind to take him and compelhim to lead Riggs and me to Thirkle's camp.

  "Don't shoot!" he whined. "Don't shoot! Where did ye git the gun, sir? Wenever knowed as how ye had it. Don't shoot, Mr. Trenhum! Ye mind how Itook yer luggage aboard!"

  "Where's Thirkle and Buckrow?" I demanded.

  "Up there," he said, swinging his free hand in the direction we had come,and I saw the familiar crafty look come into his eyes.

  "How far?"

  "Quite a bit, sir; in a cut of a clift with the booty."

  "How far?"

  "Not far it ain't, Mr. Trenhum. Roundaboutish, but not far; and I'mthinkin' I might lead ye on to 'em, sir, if ye'd let me have the sack wehad, sir. Ye done for Jim right enough, but that's my sack now."

  "Throw down that knife and unbuckle your belt, and see that you don'treach for a pistol," I said.

  There was something in his manner that led me to believe he had a trapfor me; either he had seen Long Jim move, or thought Thirkle and Buckrowmight come down upon us if he could keep me talking.

  He dropped the knife, and as he reached for the buckle of the belt Iturned my head in an involuntary movement to make sure that Long Jim hadnot recovered, an action bred by the suspicious manner of Petrak. Thepirate was lying as he had fallen, with his arms over his head and hispistol a yard away; but the little red-headed man turned and ran inthe flash of my eye. I fired at him as he scurried behind a sprawlinghemp-tree, but missed; and he never stopped, and I stood and listened ashe crashed through the brush.

  It would have been senseless to pursue him. As he had kept on toward thebeach, away from the direction of Thirkle's camp, I knew he was not goingback to the others, and reasoned that he would hardly dare to return toThirkle, who had probably missed the sack of gold, or would demandexplanations which Petrak would have difficulty in giving.

  I picked up the knife and went and looked at Long Jim. Seeing he was deadI took his pistols; but gave him scant attention, being afraid Thirkleor Buckrow might be about, investigating the sound of the shots. Petrak'sestimates on the distance of their hiding-place had been rather vague.

  I turned away to the west in the direction I felt sure the trail must be,and, when the ground was clear, ran as fast as I could. I made about halfa mile in as straight a line as I could, and then began to worry; for,although the ground had sloped in front of me, I felt that I should havecrossed the bed of the stream which was the trail we had followed.

  I kept on, my face and hands scratched by prickly vines and my clothingtorn by fighting through thickets, and a panic began to grow on me that Iwas lost, although I refused to admit it. I soon had to stop running fromexhaustion, the torment of the heat and thirst; and the four big pistolsdragged at my belt and the ammunition in my pockets began to hang heavy.I began to fear that darkness would come on before I could find thetrail.

  Despair began to get the upper hand, when I caught the dull boom of apistol-shot, and it so startled me that I could not decide the directionit came from. I stopped to listen, afraid that Thirkle had found CaptainRiggs and Rajah.

  Soon there was another report, and then a third, and what puzzled me mostwas that they seemed to be just where I had come from. The echoes cameback to me from the hills and died away in dismal reverberations in thejungle. It seemed to be some signal, but, whether from the captain orThirkle, I had no way of knowing.

  I was tempted to fire a shot in reply, but, deciding to wait for another,I turned in my tracks and started back, although not on the same trail Ihad come over, but to the right of it.

  I blamed myself for leaving the captain, for I should have kept with him,no matter what happened. I had made a fine mess of my scouting trip, butfound some excuse for myself in the fact that I did right in followingLong Jim and Petrak, and had a good reason to believe that they weregoing to the pirate camp.

  I tried to reason out the significance of the three shots I had heard.They might mean that Captain Riggs had fired on Thirkle, or that Thirklehad fired on him. In a kind of frenzy at my own helplessness I figuredthe various combinations of the three shots as I went along, but all thetime I was in a frantic haste to find the trail.

  Finally I found the dry bed of a little stream; but a careful searchshowed no signs of any person having been over it, and it seemed to me,in my upset sense of direction, that it should lead the other way. But,remembering that I had left the bed of the creek to follow Long Jim andPetrak, I came to the conclusion that the pirates had abandoned thecreek, or had turned off from it to cache the gold.

  I started down it, hoping that it was the one which would lead me to thecaptain. My courage was freshened, and, taking a slow trot jumping fromstones to the hard sand, dodging over-hanging branches, and scrambling upon the banks to avoid creepers, I covered a great deal of ground in ashort time. I kept close watch on the clear spaces for tracks, andcarried my two pistols in the front of my belt, Long Jim's pair wellbehind.

  I was running and jumping along in this way, as quietly as possible, whenI heard a low, peculiar gruff growl. I stopped in my tracks and listened.Crawling into the bushes I rested on my knees with a pistol in each hand,my mouth wide open so as to breathe silently, for I was panting from myflight.

  "Ye didn't look to Bucky for this, did ye?" I heard Buckrow say, so closeat hand that, it startled me. There was no reply to his question, andafter a few minutes I crawled toward him. I found myself in an outcrop ofvolcanic rock, and beyond the face of a sheer ledge. The soil was moistten feet away from the bed of the stream, and bamboo and the thick,coarse _colgon_ grass was as high as my shoulder.

  Keeping well hidden in the bamboo and grass I crept to a high spot, andright under the edge of the cliff I saw Thirkle sitting on a sack ofgold, with his hands across his knees, holding a piece of rope and gazingdown at it as if in doubt what to do with it. His bare, bald head wasbowed low.

  Buckrow was lying in front of him, with his chin propped in his hands. Hewas smoking a cigar and looking at Thirkle. Behind them were piled thesacks of gold, close to a wide crack in the cliff, a sort of canon, wideenough for a man to enter, and overgrown at the top with brush and greenfronds, for the cliffside was wet and dripping, and veiled withmosses.

  "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 wasBad Buckrow afore ever I saw ye, and I had a bit of brains of my ownafore ever I met up with ye, Thirkle. Ye can bear that in mind. See howye come out when ye monkeyed with me. Them other two fools went off inthe 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 hishands, as if he were considering some weighty problem.

  "Wanted it all, hey?" went on Buckrow. "Think I'm goin' to put my neck ina rope for ye and then let ye hog it all, hey? Maybe ye can fool theothers, 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 andJim 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 an
d cleared his throat, but did not lift his heador give any answer. But, when he put his head to one side and shook it, Isaw a red patch on his scalp over his right ear, and a smear of blooddown his cheek. Then I realized that the rope over his hands made him aprisoner, and that Buckrow had turned against him.

  "Wanted to do for me too, did ye. I knew yer game, old boy! I saw themeyes of yours on me, and murder in 'em, and it's me ought to know whenye 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 ofit was small pickin', but here's half o' London under our feet to besplit four ways; but ye wanted it all, and ye wanted us out of yer way soye could sleep o' nights. Nice game it was. Fine gent ye'd be, with allof 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 andthen cut it for London, prayin' yer way out of the country, and folks'dwonder what come of the Devil's Admiral and his crew when no more shipswas lost the way we made 'em go."

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

  "Don't worry of ye! Don't bother, Thirkle. Yer sharp, but yer good asdead now. It's me that'll be the fine gent and wear walkin'-aboutclothes, and have my drink and comfort, and nobody to split on me. I'llplay yer own game, and leave ye here to rot. How like ye that, Thirkle?"

  "Ye are on the wrong tack, Bucky," he said quietly, without lifting hishead. "Dead on the wrong tack and shoal water ahead."

  "Nasty weather ahead for you, Thirkle--never fret about Bucky."

  "Dead on the wrong tack," repeated Thirkle, as if talking to himself. "Ilooked to you for better than this, and trusted you too. I wanted to playfair with ye, Bucky, because ye've got brains, which a man wouldn't thinkto hear ye now."

  "Brains enough not to be cut down like a bullock by Thirkle, when thelast comes to the last."

  "Reddy and Jim were not fit men to trust with a heap of gold like this,Bucky, and it's you that knows the truth of what I say. They would havethe whole thing cut open in a week once they got into some port withtheir pockets full of sovereigns and their skins full of rum, and theirmouths full of babble in the public houses of their wealth and how smartthey be.

  "First we'd know Petrak would be telling how we took the _Southern Cross_and the _Legaspi_ and the _Kut Sang_, best of all, and last. Now wouldn'tthat be the way with him once he got at the gin? Hey, Bucky?"

  "He could be watched and his lip kept shut," said Buckrow.

  "Would you want to trust yer neck to Petrak's close lip? Tell me that,Bucky. Could ye sleep with Petrak and his bragging, and Long Jim and hisbragging, and the two of 'em whispering together, considering the friendsthey make when drunk. Why, Bucky, man! Long Jim would tell the whole taleto a barmaid for a smile, as he come near telling that girl in Malta,with the whole Mediterranean fleet ashore in Valetta.

  "If it wasn't for me we'd been in a jam, what with the stories that weregoing the rounds about us then, and a P.O. out of the _Implacable_ tryingto chum with me. I wanted to play fair with ye, Bucky, because yer toosmart to let the drink get the better of ye--but what's the use. I don'twant to argue with ye. Go on and play it alone if ye think ye can."

  "Well, right ye are," said Buckrow scornfully. "That's the true words yespeak now, Thirkle. Ye don't want to argue with me. Right-o--a man can'targue with cold steel--and what's more, ye won't, if I'm Bad Buckrow. Iknow ye've got a smooth lingo when ye get in a trap, but ye can't squirmout this time. I'll hold the weather of ye this commission, Thirkle."

  "Ye'll never get away with it, Bucky. It takes more brains than ye've gotto handle half a ton of gold. Not that ye ain't got the brains so much asye don't know how to handle 'em. There's many a man foremast with morebrains than his skipper, but that don't make him skipper."

  "It don't take no skipper to handle cargo of this sort," said Buckrow.

  "Ye can't do it alone, Bucky. How about coming back for it? What'll yetell the crew that comes back with ye? Didn't I plan it all out to getit? I planned this job and made fair weather of it, didn't I?

  "You and the others couldn't done it alone, you know that. Well, ye won'tget away with it, ye can be sure of that. It isn't in ye, Bucky, to dothe job. The hardest is to come yet, as ye'll see when ye go aboutgetting this away all clear."

  "Never ye fret about me, Thirkle. I turned a couple of tricks afore everI crossed yer bows, lay to that. I ain't the dog of a sailor ye take mefor. I was a gent once, and I'll be a gent again, and no thanks to ye,Thirkle. It don't take no brains to spend a guinea at a time, even if aman knows he has a house full of 'em, and I can be respectable, too, andtake my drink alone in my own house."

  "I'll grant ye are no fool, Bucky. It all looks nice and easy, but whotook ye out of the gutter in Sarawak? Where would ye be to-day if itwasn't for Thirkle? Tell me that, Bucky?"

  Buckrow puffed at his cigar a minute, and seemed to consider the matterbefore replying.

  "I was down and out right enough then, Thirkle, but I ain't the kind tostay down long, Thirkle. What with fever and jail, and a bad cut in thehip, I was in a bad way, but no fault of mine, only my cussed luck. I'vehad my hard goin' in my life, and now I'm to take it snug."

  "The hangman was around the corner that time in Sarawak, and close-hauledon a course that would fetch him alongside ye in no time," said Thirkle,looking up and smiling wearily.

  "Never ye mind about the hangman, Mr. Thirkle! He was around the cornerwith ye, too, for that, and more than once. Ye mind Hong-Kong? Whosaved ye from the hangman in Hong-Kong? I ask ye that. It was Bucky; butthat had no stop on ye here when ye planned to do for me. I saved yefrom the hangman, too, and now the score is even, and ye can't whine if Icome yer own game on ye."

  "I don't deny ye served me a turn in Hong-Kong, Bucky, and that's why Iwas to play fair and above board with ye here. Ye think ye know me, andwho I am, and who I was, but ye don't, Bucky, and if ye did ye'd havemore thought about what yer up to here. Thirkle I'm known as, and asThirkle I'll die, and I'm rough in my ways and language because I havefallen into those ways with my men.

  "When I'm a sailor I'm as sailors are, and when I'm a parson I know howto play it, but ye've never seen me as a fine gentleman. Maybe ye'd liketo know who I was before I was Thirkle and got to be the Devil's Admiral,as they call me for the want of something better, seeing I have played mygame careful and kept them all in the dark."

  "It's naught to me who ye was or are, Thirkle. Ye can't oil me out of itwith all yer fine talk--I'm to do for ye when I'm minded, and yer slicktalk can't save ye."

  Buckrow got up and slung a rope over his shoulders and began to make asling so that he could balance a sack of gold on each end of it.

  "I was an officer in the navy, Bucky," said Thirkle, with a sly grin.

  "An officer!" exclaimed Buckrow, halting in his work.

  "An officer in the navy with the queen's commission at my back and anadmiral's flag ahead," said Thirkle, pleased with the impression he hadmade. "That's what, Bucky. Now ye see I was the lad to finish the jobhere in fine style. That's why I can get away with this gold, which youcan't. I can show a wad of five-pound notes and not have Scotland Yard atmy heels, or charter a ship and crew and go about it businesslike, andtake my time at it.

  "Nice job ye'll make of it, coming back here for this gold. You've gotthe whip hand now, and I'll let it go at that; but when they've got ye onthe gallows, which they will, remember what Thirkle told ye, sitting herein the thick of it, which ye think ye'll spend for high life in London.Before ye ever get it to London ye'll find it's another tune ye'll play.Maybe ye think ye can fill a ship with gold and sail to the dockhead andlift it out and let it go at that--they'll take the gold and hang you,that's what.

  "No doubt ye think the owners of this gold won't have a word to say whenthey find the _Kut Sang_ overdue. Maybe ye think the looting of her wasthe easiest part of it; but ye'll find murder is easy, while keeping itquiet is another tale and another trick. Any m
an with a knife can go outand stab a man in the back, but he finds what comes after, the worst ofit.

  "It looks easy to ye because we got away with the _Southern Cross_ andthe _Legaspi_--but when ye mount the gallows ye'll see the best of oldThirkle's tricks was to keep his tracks clear and things running sweet.They'll take you and wring it all out of ye, the whole murderous story,and swing ye from a high place. Ye'll end on the gallows, Bucky."

  "Never ye fret about the gallows. I'll get this gold away neat and cleanif it takes me twenty years, and I'm the lad that can wait until the timeis ripe."

  "Maybe ye can," said Thirkle, "but all I want you to remember is thatThirkle said ye couldn't, and my words will come to ye when ye take thosethirteen steps up to the rope. Just keep that in mind, Bucky."

  Buckrow made no reply, but busied himself again with the sling, and as hegot down on his knees with his back toward me, I decided that it was timethat I took a hand in the proceedings. With Thirkle bound, I had nothingto fear from him, and I began to draw myself up from the ground,intending to get on one knee and then empty my pistol into Buckrow, whowas not a dozen yards away.

  If it had not been that there was a great deal of high, dry grass, thatwould crackle if I tried to run through it, I would have attempted torush in on Buckrow and knock him senseless with the butt of a pistol. Butas Thirkle sat facing in my direction, and there was little chance ofgetting to Buckrow before Thirkle would see me and give the alarm, orBuckrow hear me coming, I knew the only thing to do was to kill or woundBuckrow, even though I had to shoot him in the back. It seemed an unfairadvantage, and nothing better than the act of an assassin; but I reasonedthat Thirkle or Buckrow would have little mercy on me if I fell intotheir power.

  So I arose cautiously, and, parting the grass before me, reached for mypistol.