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 I took heart once more.
I looked round, and there was the tin box on a 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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