Again he glared around, letting his dark, dauntless eyes dwell for a
second on each face. "And t'other two bes for the lad who larned you
how."

With that, he swept the four piles of coins into a pocket of his coat.
One of the men grunted. The skipper turned his black but glowing regard
upon him. Another cursed harshly and withdrew a step from the table. The
skipper jumped to his feet.

"Who says nay?" he roared. "Who gives the lie to my word? I bes skipper
here--aye, an' more nor skipper! Would ye have one gold guinea amongst
the whole crew o' ye, but for me? Would ye have a bite o' food in yer
bellies, but for me? An' now yer bellies bes full an' yer pockets bes
full, an' ye stand there an' say nay to my aye!"

He pulled two pistols from beneath his coat, cocked them deliberately
and stared insolently and inquiringly around.

"What d'ye say to it, Bill Brennen?" he asked.

Bill Brennen shuffled his big feet uneasily, and eyed the pistols
askance.

"Thank ye kindly, skipper. Ye speaks the truth," said he.

"An' ye, Nick Leary?"

"Ye bes skipper here, sure--aye, and more nor skipper. But for ye we'd
all be starved to death wid hunger an' cold," said Nick.