Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
The girl made a gesture of disgust. “I told you in the first place that
I wouldn’t have anything to do with a bunch of cheap screws, and that
until you had enough money to carry the thing out properly I would not
give you the maps and directions, without which you cannot hope to reach
the vaults, where there is stored enough gold to buy this whole, tight,
little island if half that what I have heard them say about it is true.
You can go along and spend your own money, but you’ve got to show me
that you have at least two thousand pounds to spend before I give up the
information that will make you the richest men in the world.”
“The blighter’s got the money,” growled Throck. “Blime if I know what
he’s beefin’ about.”
“He can’t help it,” growled the Russian, “it’s a racial characteristic;
Bluber would try to jew down the marriage license clerk if he were going
to get married.”
“Oh, vell,” sighed Bluber, “for vy should we spend more money than is
necessary? If ve can do it for vone t’ousand pounds so much the better.”
“Certainly,” snapped the girl, “and if it don’t take but one thousand,
that is all that you will have to spend, but you’ve got to have the two
thousand in case of emergencies, and from what I have seen of that
country you are likely to run up against more emergencies than anything
else.
“_Oi! Oi!_” cried Bluber.
“’E’s got the money all right,” said Peebles, “now let’s get busy.”
“He may have it, but I want to see it first,” replied the girl.
“Vat you t’ink; I carry all dot money around in my pocket?” cried
Bluber.
“Can’t you take our word for it?” grumbled Throck.
“You’re a nice bunch of crooks to ask me that,” she replied, laughing in
the face of the burly ruffians. “I’ll take Carl’s word for it, though;
if he tells me that you have it, and that it is in such shape that it
can, and will, be used to pay all the necessary expenses of our
expedition, I will believe him.”
Peebles and Throck scowled angrily, and Miranda’s eyes closed to two
narrow, nasty slits, as he directed his gaze upon the Russian. Bluber,
on the contrary, was affected not at all; the more he was insulted, the
better, apparently, he liked it. Toward one who treated him with
consideration or respect he would have become arrogant, while he fawned
upon the hand that struck him. Kraski, alone, smiled a self-satisfied
smile that set the blood of the Spaniard boiling.
“Bluber has the money, Flora,” he said; “each of us has contributed his
share. We’ll make Bluber treasurer, because we know that he will squeeze
the last farthing until it shrieks before he will let it escape him. It
is our plan now to set out from London in pairs.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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