“If,” said Bill, “you think you will be any safer in the state of Maine than you are on the high seas—”
The Baron started up in bed. “And what do you know about the state of Maine?” he thundered, visibly perturbed.
“Only what I broadcasted last night,” grinned Bill. “As you remarked just now, ‘secrets have a way of leaking out on shipboard.’ You have implicit confidence in your officers and crew of course. Did it never occur to you that there might be a traitor amongst your devoted band?”
“Away with them!” shouted the Baron, now thoroughly angry.
“Just one moment—may I say a few words?”
The Baron was the type of bully who loves to see a victim cringe. From the young Seminole’s tone, he was sure the lad was frightened, and that he would beg for his life.
“Make it short. What is it you want to say?”
“Only this, sir. With such a captain, the Jolly Roger is no longer a fitting ensign for this ship. May I, in all humility, suggest that instead of a white skull and crossed bones on a black field, you substitute a lollipop? A green one would be appropriate—and floating on a broad field of bright yellow!”
“T-take them away!” stuttered the Baron, purple with rage.
As they were hustled along the passageway, they could hear him hoarsely shouting invective after them. But as his further rantings were in German, Osceola understood not a word of it.