know the Spanish sea terms."

"Let that go then; I will soon learn if you have lied, and that will
be a sorry day for you. I'll tell you, Gates, how matters stand
aboard, and why I have need of your skill. Then you may take your
choice--the forecastle, or the cabin?"

"You invite me aft, Senor?"

"I give you a chance to move your dunnage, if you will do my work," he
explained seriously. "Listen now. Sanchez has been badly hurt. It may
be weeks before he leaves his cabin, if, indeed, he ever does. That
leaves me in command with but one officer, the mulatto, LeVere. This
might answer to take us safely to Porto Grande, as we could stand
watch and watch, but Francois is no sailor. It was his part on board
to train and lead the fighting men--he cannot navigate. Saint
Christopher! I fear to leave him alone in charge of the deck while I
snatch an hour's sleep."

"I see," I admitted. "And yourself, Senor? You are a seaman?"

He hated to confess, yet my eyes were honest, and met his squarely.

"Enough to get along, but not quite sure as to my figures. I have
taken no sights, except as we came north, on this trip. 'Tis for this
reason I need you--but you will play me no smart English trick, my
man, or I'll have you by the heels at once. I know enough to verify
your figures."

"I thought of no trick, Estada." I said coldly, now satisfied as to