I spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might need
it before I was through. Then at last he broke out at me, spitting
and cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great clasp-knife in his
hand. He had not time to get it from the sheath before I had the
harpoon through him. Heavens! what a yell he gave! and his face
gets between me and my sleep. I stood there, with his blood
splashing round me, and I waited for a bit, but all was quiet, so l
took heart once more. I looked round, and there was the tin box
on the shelf. I had as much right to it as Peter Carey, anyhow, so
I took it with me and left the hut. Like a fool I left my
baccy-pouch upon the table.
"Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. I had
hardly got outside the hut when I heard someone coming, and I
hid among the bushes. A man came slinking along, went into the
hut, gave a cry as if he had seen a ghost, and legged it as hard as
he could run until he was out of sight. Who he was or what he
wanted is more than I can tell. For my part I walked ten miles,
got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and so reached London, and no
one the wiser.
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