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“I am,” said Mandelbaum.

“Then I reckon you won’t mind givin’ us a lift. We’re not above workin’ for our grub—set down till I get some drinkin’ nuts.”

There was a long seat under the veranda, the house door was at the westward end of the house and the seat ran from the door to the eastern end. It was long enough for, maybe, ten people to sit on comfortably, and the three sat down on the seat. Harman having fetched the nuts, Mandelbaum threw his right leg over his left knee and turning comfortably and in a lazy manner towards the others, said:

“Where’s Clayton?”

“I beg your pardon,” said Harman.

Davis said nothing. His mouth fell open, and before he could shut it Mandelbaum got in again.

“Don’t go to the trouble of trying any monkey tricks, there’s half a dozen fellows with Winchesters on that schooner. Your bluff is called. Where’s Clayton, my partner? He and a year’s taking of pearls ought to be here. I bring the schooner back with more trade goods and he’s gone, and I find you two scowbarkers in his house and serving strangers with your damn drinking nuts.” A venomous tang was coming into the steady voice, and a long slick Navy revolver came out of his left-hand coat pocket into his right hand, with the nozzle resting on his right knee.