“Nearly sixty.”
“Well, then, supposing you gained your liberty, what would you do to obtain a living? You are getting past work.”
“I’m not past work as yet,” returned the pirate, savagely, “though I am not the man I was; but I can turn my hand to a thing or two still.”
“That may be; still you would have a precarious sort of existence. As I said before, the best of your days are over, and you might starve.”
The captive smiled.
“Should I?” he ejaculated. “I know better than that.”
“I hope you would not. Still, after your long imprisonment, you would find the outside world strangely altered. Many of your friends are doubtless dead. Others may be in distant parts, and you would, therefore, be thrown upon your own resources. I am afraid, Murdock, you have not duly considered all these things.”
“I tell you I have considered all you mention, and more too—a good deal more. Starve—eh?”
An almost disdainful sneer of triumph curled his lip as he said—
“I am richer than you or any one supposes.”