"You wont talk, eh?" the mate snarled, kicking him in the ribs with his heavy boot. "Well, I know some cunnin' little ways of makin' people talk when I want 'em to. But I'm goin' to wait a while before I try 'em on you. I want somebody here to see you cringe and hear you howl. Bless her pretty eyes, how she'll enjoy it!"
Then Drew's eyes flashed and he strained at his bonds.
"You vile scoundrel!" he cried. "If my hands were free I'd choke the life out of you!"
"So you can talk, after all?" sneered the mate, his cold eye becoming still more reptilian.
"And more than talk—give me the chance," Drew flung back at him.
"Smart boy," jeered the mate. "Smart enough to translate Spanish and the pirate's old map, eh? An' now you're goin' to smart more when you see me an' my mates walk off with the doubloons," and he laughed.
"Yes. When I do!" the young man said boldly. "You'll be a deal older when that happens, Ditty."
"I'll show you!" ejaculated the mate, and kicked him again.
"The brute!" gasped Parmalee.
"Parmalee," Drew said in a trembling voice, "I never wanted the use of my hands so much as I do now. When I do get free, I shall be tempted to kill that fellow."