"No!" says I, frowning. "Not—nay, not for all Bartlemy's treasure!"
"Aha!" quoth he softly. "So you've heard tell of it then, along the Spanish Main?"
"I heard tell of it last night in a cave from a sailor-man."
"How?" says he starting and with keen eyes glancing hither and thither. "A sailor-man—hereabouts?"
"Damme!" says I, "the country seems thick o' sailor-men."
"Ha! D'ye say so? And what like was this one?"
"A comely rogue that sang strange song."
"Ah!" said Penfeather, his eyes narrowing. "A song, says you—and strange—how strange?"
"'Twas all of dead men and murder!"
"D'ye mind any line o't, shipmate?"