"Who provided the rum for the men?"
"I don't know!" gasped he, lying as if by instinct.
"I see you are not ready to speak the truth," I added, raising the revolver.
"Don't shoot me! Don't shoot me! Madre de Dios!"
"Speak the truth then. Who furnished the rum for the men?"
The Spanish Sailor tells the Truth.
"I did—have mercy upon me!"