two six-shooters and he the only armed man too!
It’s much better than it looks. I want
you to help me to talk him over.” “No!”
I shouted. Old Robinson lifted his bleared eyes
dismally for a moment, Chester looked at me with infinite
contempt. “So you wouldn’t advise
him?” he uttered slowly. “Certainly
not,” I answered, as indignant as though he
had requested me to help murder somebody; “moreover,
I am sure he wouldn’t. He is badly cut
up, but he isn’t mad as far as I know.”
“He is no earthly good for anything,”
Chester mused aloud. “He would just have
done for me. If you only could see a thing as
it is, you would see it’s the very thing for
him. And besides . . . Why! it’s the
most splendid, sure chance . .
.” He got
angry suddenly. “I must have a man.
There! . . .” He stamped his foot and smiled
unpleasantly. “Anyhow, I could guarantee
the island wouldn’t sink under him—and
I believe he is a bit particular on that point.”
“Good morning,” I said curtly. He
looked at me as though I had been an incomprehensible
fool. . . . “Must be moving, Captain Robinson,”
he yelled suddenly into the old man’s ear.
“These Parsee Johnnies are waiting for us to
clinch the bargain.” He took his partner
under the arm with a firm grip, swung him round, and,
unexpectedly, leered at me over his shoulder.
“I was trying to do him a kindness,” he
asserted, with an air and tone that made my blood boil.
“Thank you for nothing—in his name,”
I rejoined. “Oh! you are devilish smart,”
he sneered; “but you are like the rest of them.
Too much in the clouds. See what you will do
with him.” “I don’t know that
I want to do anything with him.” “Don’t
you?” he spluttered; his grey moustache bristled
with anger, and by his side the notorious Robinson,
propped on the umbrella, stood with his back to me,
as patient and still as a worn-out cab-horse.
“I haven’t found a guano island,”
I said. “It’s my belief you wouldn’t
know one if you were led right up to it by the hand,”
he riposted quickly; “and in this world you’ve
got to see a thing first, before you can make use
of it. Got to see it through and through at that,
neither more nor less.” “And get others
to see it, too,” I insinuated, with a glance
at the bowed back by his side. Chester snorted
at me. “His eyes are right enough—don’t
you worry. He ain’t a puppy.”
“Oh, dear, no!” I said. “Come
along, Captain Robinson,” he shouted, with a
sort of bullying deference under the rim of the old
man’s hat; the Holy Terror gave a submissive
little jump. The ghost of a steamer was waiting
for them, Fortune on that fair isle! They made
a curious pair of Argonauts. Chester strode on
leisurely, well set up, portly, and of conquering
mien; the other, long, wasted, drooping, and hooked
to his arm, shuffled his withered shanks with desperate
haste.’
