Whereupon Hill detailed the story of the Indian and how the mine had been worked by the Inca kings. He described the locality and the chances of getting the silver to the coast: also spoke of the labour required and the number of shares he and Mark intended to divide the mine into. Horace listened, nodding gravely. "I see you've figured it out all right, Hill," said Parkins, "and I guess I'll take a hand in the game. Give me a share and I'll engineer the buying." "Good," said Allan, delighted, "we'll divide the mine into three equal shares. You buy it, and Mark and I will work it." "Good enough. We won't want any one else to chip in. It's a deal." They shook hands on this, and then had a long talk about the West Indies, which Horace, who had never been there, knew chiefly through the glowing pages of _Westward Ho_. "Though I guess the place has changed since then," said he, "but the gold and silver's there right enough, and maybe, if we looked long enough, we'd chance on that golden Manoa Kingsley talks about." The talk drifted into more immediate topics, and Allen, much amused at his gigantic companion's naïve ways of looking at things, asked him about his life. Thereupon Horace launched out into a wild tale of doings in Africa. He had been all through the war and had fought therein. He had been up the Shire River, and all over the lion country. He made money and lost it, so he said, and finally managed to find a fortune. It was five o'clock before he ended, and later he made a remark which made Allen jump: "So I just thought when I got Mark's letter telling me you were in the old country and about the mine, that I'd come home and see what kind of man you were. I'm satisfied--oh yes, you bet. I'll trust you to the death, for I size up folk uncommon quick, and you?" "I'll trust you also," said Allen, looking at the man's clear eyes and responding to his true-hearted grip, "and in fact I need a friend now, Mr. Parkins." "Call me Parkins, plain, without the Mister. Well, here I am, ready to be your pal, while Mark's over the herring-pond. What's up? Do you want me to cut a throat? Just say the word, and I'll do it. Anything for a change, for I'm dead sick of this place ever since I left the _Dunoon Castle_." It was this speech which made Allen jump. "What, did you come home in the _Dunoon Castle?_" "You bet I did, and a fine passage we had." "Did you know a passenger called Strode?" Parkins raised his immense bulk slightly, and looked sharply at the questioner. "Do you mean the man who was murdered?" "Yes. I suppose you read about the crime in the papers?" "That's so. Yes, I knew him very well. Better than any one on board, I guess. We got along finely. Not a man I trusted," added Parkins musingly, "but a clever sort of chap. Well?" "Did he ever tell you of his daughter?" "No. He never spoke of his private relations."