The officer was handed a megaphone, and through it his voice came down like a thunderclap.
"You want the bullion stowed in our strong room, do you? Anything else you want, sir?"
"Yes," answered Forsythe. "We want a boat full of provisions. Three barrels of flour, the rest in canned meats and vegetables."
"Anything else?" There was as much derision in the voice as can carry through a megaphone.
"That is all," answered Forsythe. "Load your gold into one of your own boats, the provisions in another. Lower them down and let the falls unreeve, so that they will go adrift. We will pick them up."
"Well, of all the infernal impudence I ever heard, yours is the worst. I judge that you are that crew of jail-breakers we've heard of that stole a government boat and turned pirates."
"You are right," answered Forsythe; "but don't waste our time. Will you give us what we asked for, or shall we sink you?"
"Sink us, you scoundrel? You can't, and you'd better not try, or threaten to. Your position is known, and three scouts started this morning from Boston and New York."
"That bluff don't go," answered Forsythe. "Will you cough up?"
"No; most decidedly no!" roared the officer, who might, or might not, have been the captain.