Never glancing at me, never indicating by so much as a quiver of his black
features that he had perceived my presence, he sighed deeply, walked to the
rail and knocked the dead ashes from his pipe into the water. He then
turned and went into the galley and barricaded himself against intruders,
there to stay until, some time in the night, he should seek his berth in
the steerage for the few hours of deep sleep that were all his great body
required. But as he passed me I heard him murmuring to himself, "Dat Bill
Hayden, he betteh look out, yass, sah. He say Mistah Captain Falk don't
want to go to spoil his good name. Dat Hay den he betteh look out."
With a bang of his plank door the old darky shut himself away from all of
us in the darkness of his little kingdom of pots and pans.
[Illustration]
III
WHICH APPROACHES A CRISIS
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XI
A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS IN GOLD
Unquestionably the negro had known that I was there. Never otherwise could
he have ignored me so completely. I was certain too, that his cryptic
remarks about Bill Hayden were intended for my ears, for he never acted
without a reason, obscure, perhaps, and far-fetched, but always, according
to his own queer notions, sufficient.
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