If you're doubtful about it I've another market. Say the word and
we'll drink and part, but if you want to do business, here are my
terms. Five thousand for a sixth share!"

"Sixth share," the Jew screamed, "sixth share?"

Trent nodded.

"The thing's worth a million at least," he said. "A sixth share
is a great fortune. Don't waste any time turning up the whites of
your eyes at me. I've named my terms and I shan't budge from them.
You can lay your bottom dollar on that."

Da Souza took up the document and glanced it through once more.

"The concession," he remarked, "is granted to Scarlett Trent and to
one Monty jointly. Who is this Monty, and what has he to say to it?"

Trent set his teeth hard, and he never blenched.

"He was my partner, but he died in the swamps, poor chap. We had
horrible weather coming back. It pretty near finished me."

Trent did not mention the fact that for four days and nights they
were hiding in holes and up trees from the natives whom the King
of Bekwando had sent after them, that their bearers had fled away,
and that they had been compelled to leave the track and make their
way through an unknown part of the bush.

"But your partner's share," the Jew asked. "What of that?"