"Anybody that's worth a damn will take a chance in this world. Aren't you game to take a chance?" "Of course I'm game." "Well, then, you watch your chance and I'll watch mine. I'll hook into everything valuable that's liftable on my ship and you tend to yours in the same fashion." * * * * * We struck hands in partnership, parted, and agreed to meet at the wharf-gate the next night, just after dark, he with his loot, I with mine. I spent the morning of the following day prospecting. I had seen the captain put the ship's money for the paying of the crew in a drawer, and turn the key. But first, with a curious primitive instinct, I fixed on a small ham and a loaf of rye bread as part of the projected booty, in spite of the fact that, if I but laid hands on the ship's money, I would have quite a large sum. It was the piquaresque romance of what I was about to do that moved me. The romance of the deed, not the possession of the objects stolen, that appealed to my imagination. I pictured my comrade and myself going overland, our swag on our backs, eluding pursuit ... and joining with the natives in some far hinterland. I would be a sort of Jonathan Wilde plus a Francois Villon. Before the captain returned I had surveyed everything to my satisfaction ... after supper the captain and the two mates left for shore again. Now was the time. I searched the captain's old trousers and found the ship's keys there. They were too bulky to carry around with him. The keys seemed to jangle like thunder as I tried them one after the other on the drawer where I had seen him put away the gold. I heard someone coming. I started to whistle noisily, and to polish the captain's _carpet slippers!_ ... it was only someone walking on deck ... The last key was, dramatically, the right one. The drawer opened ... but it was empty! I had seen the captain--the captain had also seen me. Now I started to take anything I could lay my hands on. I snatched off the wall two silver-mounted cavalry pistols, a present from his brother to Schantze. I added a bottle of kuemmel to the ham and the rye bread. The kuemmel a present for Hoppner. Then, before leaving the _Valkyrie_ forever, I sat down to think if there were not something I might do to show my contempt for Miller. There were many things I could do, I found. In the first place, I took a large sail-needle and some heavy-thread and I sewed two pairs of his trousers and two of his coats up the middle of the legs and arms, so he couldn't put them on, at least right away. I picked up hammer and nails and nailed his shoes and sea-boots securely to the middle of his cabin floor. Under his pillow I found a full flask of brandy. I emptied half ... when I replaced it, it was full again. But I had not resorted to the brandy cask to fill it. * * * * *