"Well, yer can't tell 'bout a Chinaman. They didn't seem to mind
it much. They get used to it, yer see."

"Somehow," said Mr. Daddles, "a Chinese pirate doesn't seem like
the real thing to me."

"That's so," I agreed. I came and sat down with the Captain and Ed
Mason in the cock-pit. "I always think of a pirate as a man with a
black beard, and--"

"A red sash around his waist," put in Ed Mason.

"All stuck full of pistols and things," added Jimmy.

"Guess that kind has all died off," said the Captain.

"All except Black Pedro," remarked Mr. Daddles.

"Never heard of HIM."

"Never HEARD of him?" This in a tone of great surprise. "You never
heard of him either?" said Mr. Daddles, turning to each of us
boys, one after the other. "What have your parents been doing to
let you grow up in ignorance? I'll have to tell you about him,--
he's the very last of the pirates."

"Where does he hang out?" asked the Captain.

"On Rum Island or Alligator Key,--I'm not sure which. The accounts
vary."