"You want three four bottles gin, eh?" Moniz asked him. "Plenty gin all at one time, eh?"
Such a suggestion conveyed to Isa the nearest thing he knew to perfect bliss, and he grunted acquiescence.
"Not yet," said Moniz with a grim laugh. "Wait, you black scum. Listen. You tell me plenty damn lie. You say Marster Trent he got heap big lot of pearls."
"He no damn lie," replied Isa, with a figurative eye on illimitable supplies of gin, and prepared to match cunning with cunning. As a matter of fact, he did not know the extent of Chester Trent's total haul, for the planter had been careful not to let any of the blacks watch his operations near the drying ledge. That that was where he washed the oysters for pearls, of course, every man on Tao Tao knew. But as big Marster Trent said nothing whatever about his success or failure, they could only guess what he found. And Isa guessed that the planter must have a pretty considerable collection of pearls stored away by now. Anyway, he was perfectly prepared to declare this as a fact if by so doing he came within measurable distance of much gin.
"Big Marster Trent he say he only find two plenty big pearl," said Moniz, watching the face of the other closely in the rays of the lantern.
"Big Marster Trent he tell damn lie," Isa declared firmly.
