Silver backed into the companionway, as if in mute obedience to a leveled weapon.
"Do?" he repeated. "That depends, Bill. We'll see what the crew has to say."
"Aye, that we will," retorted Bones, and his voice vibrated with undisguised triumph. "Who's to come a'ter ye, cap'n?" he added.
"I ain't goin' to die, Bill," came Flint's mournful wail. "Where's the rum, Darby? I'm a-burnin' wi' thirst."
"Who's to come a'ter ye, John?" pressed Bones remorselessly.
Silver indulged in a mocking laugh.
"Aye, he knows what to answer!"
And Flint echoed him gaspingly:
"Bill's mate. He—has—map."
"Satisfied?" jeered Bones.