"I be, Bill," Silver assured him. "But we'll put it to the crew first, all fair and reg'lar. And whatever they say, Bill, you remember I'll be watchin' ye. Don't try any tricks wi' that map. I'm ready for ye, and if ye start tricks we'll put the Black Spot on ye."
"To —— wi' you and your Black Spot!" roared Bones. "Get out o' here afore I take my knife to ye."
Silver stumped toward us, his face distorted with rage.
"He has it," he rasped. "—— him for the shifty scoundrel he is! Well, the next move is for ye to plot, Master Ormerod."
"I see it not," I said coldly.
"Wait till he thinks o' the maid here," replied the one-legged man and hopped out on deck.
From Flint's stateroom Darby's voice rose in protest.
"Take your hand off me, ye— Ah, if he wants the rum do be lettin' him have it! Sure, what will it matther——"
"'Tain't no use wastin' good rum on a dead man," said Bones, chuckling thickly.
There was a gurgle of liquor, and Flint moaned: