“Silence,” shouted Jarette. “Now, look here, my lads, if I have you cut loose and forgive you for giving us so much trouble and knocking your mates about, will you join us and help us work the ship?”
“No!” roared Dumlow, “I’m blessed if I do.”
“And you, Barney?”
“Same I says as my mate.”
“Vairy good, then, my friends, we were going to offer you a happy life and a share in our prize, but you will not take them, so we shall have to pitch you both overboard.”
“As Neb says, I should just like to ketch yer at it,” roared Blane.
“Lookye here, Frenchy,” cried Dumlow in his strange growl, “you make these beggars loosen this here line, and I’ll fight yer one hand.”
“Will you join us, big idiot?” said Jarette, and I drew in my breath as I wondered whether the two brave fellows would prove staunch, and if they did, whether Jarette would dare to carry out his threat.
“No; course I won’t, you ugly piratical frog-soup-eating Frenchy.”
“Hit him in the mouth,” said Jarette.