Norman Saint Clair's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. A forlorn hope presented itself, if only he had the courage to grasp it.
"Now, gentlemen," the turnip shaped leader continued; "it would only be fair to give you the opposite side of the coin. You are bound to us for life; not by anything so puerile as an oath. In fact you are at liberty to escape any time," he paused, "if you can.
"You will be given good quarters and food. Money for any pleasure or vices you wish to indulge will come as your share of the prizes taken. The alternative, gentlemen, which I mentioned at first, is slavery. We also need men and women to work our factories, maintain our living quarters. The fighting men do not work."
With a faint bow the creature turned on his heel, disappeared as suddenly as he had come.
A low buzz sprang up in the hall as everyone turned to his neighbors, questions tumbling from their lips. The pirates dropped their stiff pose, returned to their duties. The men grouped in the center of the floor shifted uneasily.
Norman bit his lip, frowned. He might be able to protect Jennifer as one of the pirates and eventually escape. He wished he could talk it over with her.
"All right," said the burly renegade. "How many of you are volunteering? Step forward."
Norman Saint Clair stepped out of the group. He did it like a man plunges off a high dive, quickly before his nerve departed. Nine of his fellow passengers straggled beside him.
"Is that all, gentlemen?" inquired the pirate. "This is your last chance. Either piracy or slavery. And let me warn you, slaves don't live an easy life."
Twenty-three more men straggled uncertainly around Norman.