On the Sloop

"Umballa has your basket, Colonel. If he hasn't, then say good-by to
it, for it can never be dug from under those tons and tons of
rock. . . . Here! where are those fishermen going?" he demanded.

The men were in the act of pushing off with the boats, which they had
only just brought back.

Ramabai picked up his discarded rifle.

"Stop!"

"They are frightened," explained the chief.

"Well, they can contain their fright till we are in safety," Ramabai
declared. "Warn them."

"Hurry, everybody! I feel it in my bones that that black devil has the
treasure. Get those men into the boats. Here, pick up those oars.
Get in, Kit; you, Winnie; come, everybody!"

Kathlyn gazed sadly at her father. Treasure, treasure; that first.
She was beginning to hate the very sound of the word. The colonel had
been nervous, impatient and irritable ever since the document had been
discovered. Till recently Kathlyn had always believed her father to be
perfect, but now she saw that he was human, he had his flawed spot.
Treasure! Before her or Winnie! So be it.

"Colonel," said Bruce, taking a chance throw, "we are less than a
hundred miles from the seaport. Suppose we let Umballa clear out and
we ourselves head straight up the coast? It is not fair to the women
to put them to any further hardship."

"Bruce, I have sworn to God that Umballa shall not have that treasure.
Ramabai, do you understand what it will mean to you if he succeeds in
reaching Allaha with that treasure, probably millions? He will be able
to buy every priest and soldier in Allaha and still have enough left
for any extravagance that he may wish to plunge in."