“Well, Jack, for the first three I don’t care a brass farthing. They’re foreigners and blacks; therefore, nothing to us. But, as Blew chances to be a countryman of ours, I’d rather it didn’t go so hard with him.”
“Balderdash, Bill Davis! What have you or me to do wi’ feelins o’ that sort? Countryman, indeed! A fine country, as starves ten millions o’ the like o’ us two; an’ if we try to take what by nateral right’s our own, sends us out o’ it wi’ handcuffs round our wrists, an’ iron jewellery on our ankles! All stuff an’ psalm-singin’ that ’bout one’s own country, an’ fella-countryman. If we let him off, we might meet him somewhere, when we an’t a-wantin’ to. He’ll have to be sarved same as the t’other three. There be no help for’t, if we don’t want to have hemp roun’ our thrapples.”
“I suppose you’re right, Striker; though it does seem a pity too. But what reason have the Spaniards for keepin’ the thing back? Why should they wait till we get down by Panama? As the yellow stuff’s lyin’ ready, sure it might be grabbed at once, an’ then we’d have more time to talk of how it’s to be divided? What’s the difficulty about our taking it now?”
“’Tant the takin’ o’ it. That’ll be eezy work; an’ when the time comes, we’ll have it all our own way. We could toss the four overboard in the skippin’ o’ a flea. But then, how’s the ship to be navvygated without the skipper an’ first mate?”
“Surely we can do without them?”
“That’s jest what we can’t. O’ all our crew, theer’s only them two as hev the knowledge o’ charts an’ chronometers, an’ the like; for him as is actin’ second confesses he don’t know nothin’ ’bout sich. Tharfor, though we’re in a good sound craft, without the skipper, or Blew, we’d be most as good as helpless. We’re now on the biggest o’ all oceans, an’ if we stood on the wrong tack, we might niver set eyes on land—or only to be cast away on some dangersome shore. Or, what ’ud be bad as eyther, get overhauled by some man-o’-war, an’ not able to gie account o’ ourselves. Theer’s the diffyculty, don’t ’ee see, Bill? For thet reezun the Spanyards have agreed to let things alone till we’ve ran down nigh Panyma. Theer Gomez says he knows o’ a long streetch o’ uninhabited coast, where we’ll be safe goin’ ashore.”
“Well, I suppose that’ll be the best way, after all. If a man has the money, it don’t make much difference where he sets foot on shore; an’ no doubt we’ll find sport down at Panyma, good as anywheres else.”
“Theer ye be right, Bill. When a cove’s flush there’s pleasurin’ iverywhere. Goold’s the only thing as gives it.”
“With the prospect of such big plunder, we can afford to be patient,” says Davis resignedly.
“I an’t agoin’ to be patient for the paltry five thousand they promised. No, Bill; neyther must you. We’ve equal rights wi’ the rest, an’ we must stan’ out for ’em.”