"Where is it?" Kent asked, at the same time slacking on the rope.
"You blasted--ugh--"
Kent merely threw back his weight, shutting off the other's wind.
"Bloomin'--Bur--ugh--"
"Where is it?" Kent repeated.
"Wot?" Cardegee asked, as soon as he had caught his breath.
"The gold-dust."
"Wot gold-dust?" the perplexed sailor demanded.
"You know well enough,--mine."
"Ain't seen nothink of it. Wot do ye take me for? A safe-deposit? Wot
'ave I got to do with it, any'ow?"
"Mebbe you know, and mebbe you don't know, but anyway, I'm going to stop
your breath till you do know. And if you lift a hand, I'll blow your
head off!"
"Vast heavin'!" Cardegee roared, as the rope tightened.
Kent eased away a moment, and the sailor, wriggling his neck as though
from the pressure, managed to loosen the noose a bit and work it up so
the point of contact was just under the chin.
"Well?" Kent questioned, expecting the disclosure.
But Cardegee grinned. "Go ahead with your 'angin', you bloomin' old pot-
wolloper!"
Then, as the sailor had anticipated, the tragedy became a farce. Cardegee
being the heavier of the two, Kent, throwing his body backward and down,
could not lift him clear of the ground.
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