In Which We Fold Our Tents

"What, Jimmy?" I inquired.

"Well, I know somethin'."

"And what is it?"

"Well, Jean Lafitte knows it, too."

"What is it then?"

"Well, it ain't happened yet, but it's goin' to--or anyhow maybe."

"You interest me! Is it a matter of importance?"

"--Say it was!"

"To whom?"

"Why, to you--an' besides, to my Auntie Helena. 'N' you can't pull off
things like that just anywheres. Jean Lafitte an' me, we frame up how
to handle yon heartless jade, the fair captive, 'n' here you butt in
'n' spoil the whole works. It ain't right."

I bethought me now of the conversation I had unwillingly
overheard--and my heart was grateful to these my friends--but the next
instant I remembered the note to Cal Davidson.

"I thank you, Jimmy, my friend," said I, "and I believe I know what
you mean, but it can't be done."

"What can't, an' why can't it?"

"Why, the--the frame-up that you have just mentioned. In short--but,
Jimmy, go on and roll up the blankets."

"But why can't it, and what do you know about it? Tell me," he
demanded with sudden inspiration, "is yon varlet a suitor, too, for
yon heartless jade?"

"I decline to answer, Jimmy. Don't let's get into too deep water. Go
on and get your bundles ready."

"You're a fine pirate, ain't you, Black Bart!" he broke out. "Do you
hold yerself fit to head a band o' bold an' desprit men, when you let
yerself be bluffed by yon varlet, an' him a thousand miles away? You
try me, just you gimme a desert island, or even a pirut ship, a
week, like the chance you got, an' beshrew me, but any heartless jade
would be mine!"