Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“Und now, dot ve are all good friends,” said Bluber, rubbing his hands
together unctuously, “vy not arrange for vhen ve shall commence starting
to finish up everyt’ings? Miss Flora, she gives me the map und der
directions und we start commencing immediately.”
“Loan me a pencil, Carl,” said the girl, and when the man had handed her
one she searched out a spot upon the map some distance into the interior
from X, where she drew a tiny circle. “This is O,” she said. “When we
all reach here you shall have the final directions and not before.”
Bluber threw up his hands. “_Oi!_ Miss Flora, vhat you t’ink, ve spend
two t’ousand pounds to buy a pig in a poke? _Oi! Oi!_ you vouldn’t ask
us to do dot? Ve must see everyt’ing, ve must know everyt’ing, before ve
spend vun farthing.”
“Yes, and ’ere we are, and that’s that!” roared John Peebles, striking
the table with his fist.
The girl rose leisurely from her seat. “Oh, very well,” she said with a
shrug. “If you feel that way about it we might as well call it all off.”
“Oh, vait, vait, Miss Flora,” cried Bluber, rising hurriedly. “Don’t be
ogcited. But can’t you see vere ve are? Two t’ousand pounds is a lot of
money, and ve are good business men. Ve shouldn’t be spending it all
vit’out getting not’ings for it.”
“I am not asking you to spend it and get nothing for it,” replied the
girl, tartly; “but if anyone has got to trust anyone else in this
outfit, it is you who are going to trust me. If I give you all the
information I have, there is nothing in the world that could prevent you
from going ahead and leaving me out in the cold, and I don’t intend that
that shall happen.”
“But we are not gonoffs, Miss Flora,” insisted the Jew. “Ve vould not
t’ink for vun minute of cheating you.”
“You’re not angels, either, Bluber, any of you,” retorted the girl. “If
you want to go ahead with this you’ve got to do it in my way, and I am
going to be there at the finish to see that I get what is coming to me.
You’ve taken my word for it, up to the present time, that I had the
dope, and now you’ve got to take it the rest of the way or all bets are
off. What good would it do me to go over into a bally jungle and suffer
all the hardships that we are bound to suffer, dragging you along with
me, if I were not going to be able to deliver the goods when I got
there? And I am not such a softy as to think I could get away with it
with a bunch of bandits like you if I tried to put anything of that kind
over on you. And as long as I do play straight I feel perfectly safe,
for I know that either Esteban or Carl will look after me, and I don’t
know but what the rest of you would, too. Is it a go or isn’t it?”
“Vell, John, vot do you und Dick t’ink?” asked Bluber, addressing the
two ex-prize-fighters. “Carl, I know he vill t’ink v’hatever Flora
t’inks. Hey? V’at?”
“Blime,” said Throck, “I never was much of a hand at trusting nobody
unless I had to, but it looks now as though we had to trust Flora.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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