“Guess!” almost shouted Bob. “I think the guess is on Mac’s side. But look here, fellows—let’s cut out Mac’s threats and bluffs. He ain’t goin’ to bother us or try to. I think he’s a four flusher. Anyway, I told him what I thought of him and what he could expect from us. I ain’t borrowin’ any trouble about him. Let’s quit discussin’ him.”
The other boys seemed willing. Bob amused himself a few more minutes quizzing the not wholly confident Jerry. While Tom and Hal were forward, Bob leaned over towards Jerry and whispered:
“Jerry,” he said—suppressing a smile—“did you ever tell the truth about anything?”
“Yo’ mean to ’sult me Marse Balfah?” answered the swaggering Jerry. “How come yo’ ax sich a fool question? Yo’ nacherly boun’ to tell de truf—sometimes. Dey is times when it’s bes’,” and he tried to appear indignant.
Bob edged closer to the colored boy.
“Jerry,” he asked, “are there any old colored folk over on Perdido? Old white haired darkies who have lived on the bay about a hundred years, say?”
Jerry looked up, puzzled.
“Ah reckon dey’s quite some up nigh Mill View.”
“Did any of ’em ever tell you about any pirate treasure?” added Bob, dropping his voice still lower. “Did any of these old white haired colored men ever search for pirate gold?”