"Robbery, with murder thrown in," was Tagg's brief comment.
"They had the air of expecting somebody. Did you think that? What do
you say if we wait in the shadow a few minutes?"
"Better mind our own business," said Tagg, but he did not protest
further, and the two halted in the gloom of a huge warehouse.
There was nothing visible along the straight vista of the road, but,
after a few seconds' silence, they heard the clatter and rumble of a
vehicle crossing a distant drawbridge.
"Some skipper comin' to his ship," muttered Tagg. "It can't be ours. By
George, if those chaps tackled him they would be sorry for themselves."
"Captain Stump is a good man in a row, I take it?"
"'Good' isn't the word. He's a terror. I've seen him get six of his men
out of a San Francisco crimp's house, an' I s'pose you 'aven't bin to
sea without knowing wot that means."
"Ah!" said Royson admiringly. He had found safety many times during the
past two days by some such brief comment. Thus did he steer clear of
conversational rocks.
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