'em, an' a-slittin' of their wind-pipes, an' a-walkin' 'em on The
Plank, for sixty-five year come the sixteenth o' next August.'

"'Well, what do you want?' asked Black Pedro again. His voice was
low, but terrible.

"'Why,' said the bo's'n, 'we'd like some of our share of the
money, if it's all the same to you.'

"'And when you get it,' continued the pirate chief, 'what do you
propose to do with it?'

"'Why, spend some on it, an' buy some o' the good things o' life.
Look at us. Like a lot of scare-crows, we be. In rags, ev'ry one
on us, 'cept you,--an' your black velvet suit is lookin' a leetle
mite rusty, if you'll 'scuse an ol' sailor-man, for speakin' right
out. An' we'd like somethin' good to eat, an' somethin' good to
drink. Look at me: risin' eighty-six year, I be, an' aint never
tasted nothin' all my life 'cept salt-hoss, an' ship-bread, an'
rum; never slep' nowheres 'cept in a hammock, an' had to turn out
on deck an' stand watch in all kinds of weather. An' wuth today
nine hundred an' sixty-six thousand, seven hundred an' forty-three
dollars, an' thirty-two cents.'

"'Twenty-two cents,' corrected the bookkeeper.'

"'Twenty-two cents,' said Aaron. 'An' what good does it do me?
Nothin' 't all. What can I buy with it, here on this here island?
Nothin'. Here I am--an' here we all be--scorched an' burnt by the
sun, and bit by these here scorpions, an' other varmints, an'