m very glad Miss Markham
told me her opinion of the rights of the thing before I mentioned it.
Now, I have just got time to say a few words more. If there should be
any discussion about the ownership of this gold and the way it ought to
be divided, there would be trouble, and perhaps bloody trouble. There
are those black fellows coming up here, and two of them speak English.
Eight of my men went away in a boat, and they may come back at any time.
And then, there were those two Cape Cod men, who went off first. They
may have reached the other side of the mountains, and may bring us
assistance overland. As for Davis, I know he will never come back. Maka
brought me positive proof that he was killed by the Rackbirds. Now, you
see my point. That treasure is mine. I have a right to it, and I stand
by that right. There must be no talk as to what is to be done with it. I
shall decide what is right, and I shall do it, and no man shall have a
word to say about it. In a case like this there must be a head, and I am
the head."

The captain had been speaking rapidly and very earnestly, but now his
manner changed a little. Placing his hand on Ralph's shoulder, he said:
"Now don't be afraid, my boy, that you and your sister or Mrs. Cliff will
be left in the lurch. If there were only us four, there would be no
trouble at all, but if there is any talk of dividing, there may be a lot
of men to deal with, and a hard lot, too. And now, not a word before
these men.--Maka, that is a fine lot of fire-wood you have brought. It
will last us a long time."

The African shrugged his shoulders. "Hope not," he said. "Hope Mr.
Rynders come soon. Don't want make many fires."

As Captain Horn walked away toward Ralph's lookout, he could not account
to himself for the strange and unnatural state of his feelings. He ought
to have been very happy because he had discovered vast treasures. Instead
of that his mind was troubled and he was anxious and fearful. One reason
for his state of mind was his positive knowledge of the death of Davis.
He had believed him dead because he had not come back, but now that he
knew the truth, the shock seemed as great as if he had not suspected it.
He had liked the Englishman better than any of his seamen, and he was a
man he would have been glad to have had with him now. The Cape Cod men
had been with him but a short time, and he was not well acquainted with
them. It was likely, too, that they were dead also, for they had