"What do you want of me?" I demanded.
"It's just this," he returned briskly. "If you'll lay us our course to San Salvador, we'll let you go as one of us and no questions asked."
"If not?" I inquired.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I leave it to you."
"There's always the sea," I suggested.
"And it's deep," he agreed.
We looked out to the horizon in a diplomatic silence. I did not know whether to be angry, amused, or alarmed that the man estimated my cleverness so slightly. Why, the hook was barely concealed, and the bait of the coarsest. That I would go safe to a sight of San Salvador I did not doubt: that I would never enter the harbour I was absolutely certain. The choice offered me was practically whether I preferred being thrown overboard now or several hundred miles to southeastward.
I thought rapidly. It might be possible to announce a daily false reckoning to the crew, to sail the ship within rowing distance of some coast; and then to escape while the men believed themselves many hundred miles at sea. It would take nice calculation to prevent suspicion, but as it was the only chance I resolved upon it immediately.
"That's all very well," I said firmly, "but you can't get anywhere without me, and I'm not going to put in two years and then keep my mouth shut for nothing. I want a share in the swag--an even share with the rest of you."
"Oh, that'll be all right," he cried; "you can have it."