"We wouldn't a-come if we'd knowed this was a sell," said Peth.
"Weren't you paid to come?"
"He ain't got no gun," yelled Doc. "The island is full o' gold, cap'n. Yo' got to cook it an'——"
Trask turned to see the steward waving his hands at the rail, and ran toward him in rage, telling him to be still.
"Don' you lay han's on me!" yelled Doc, backing away to where Shanghai Tom stood. Behind the pair was Marjorie.
"So you're in with 'em, eh?" sneered Trask.
"I'm in fo' mahse'f!" declared Doc, lowering his head and regarding Trask from under his brows. He put his hand in his pocket. "Keep away, w'ite man, or I'll do yo'all hurt!"
Trask walked straight for the steward, who pulled out a pistol.
"My gun!" cried Trask, stopping. Marjorie uttered a cry of dismay as she saw the steward raise his hand.
"I can shoot," warned Doc. "Come on! Come on!" he yelled, waving his hand to the dinghy. "I got 'em!"