enin's dat's done been an' gone an' transcribed on dis here deck?
Ain't I _seen_ nothin'? Ain't I _felt_ nothin'? Ain't I spectated
when the ha'r on Jezebel's back haz riz straight up an' when she's
hunched her back up an' spit when mos' folks wouldn't of saw nothin'
a-tall? Sho', she's ha'nted; mos' ships is. But dem ha'nts ain' goin'
bodder me so long's I don't bodder dem. Dat's gospel, Cap'n Jim; sho'
gospel."

"It's a hand-picked crew, Twisty," conceded Kendric mirthfully when
Nigger Ben was again at the wheel and the two adventurers paced
forward. "The kind to have at hand on a pirate cruise!"

For Nigger Ben offered both amusement during long hours and skilful
service and no end of muscular strength, while, in his own way, Charlie
was a jewel. A king of cooks and a man to keep his mouth shut. When
left to himself Charlie muttered incessantly under his breath, his
mutterings senseless jargon. When addressed his invariable reply was,
"Aw," properly inflected to suit the occasion. Thus, with a shake of
the head, it meant no; with a nod, yes; with his beaming smile,
anything duly enthusiastic. He was not the one to be looked to for
treasons, stratagems and spoils. His favorite diversion was whistling
sacred tunes to his canary in the galley.

As the _New Moon_ made her brief arc to clear the coast and sagged
south through tranquil southern days and starry nights, Kendric and
Barlow did much planning and voiced countless surmises, all having to
do with what they might or might not find. Barlow got out his maps and
indicated as closely as he could the point where they would land, the
other point some miles inland where the treasure was.

"Wild land," he said. "Wild, Jim, every foot of it. I've seen what
lies north of it and I've seen what lies south of it, and it's the
devil's own. And ours, if Escobar's fingers haven't crooked to the
feel of it. And if they have, why, then," and he looked fleetingly to
the rifles on the cabin wall, "it belongs to the man who is man enough
to walk away with it!"

More in detail than at any time before Twisty Barlow told all that he
knew of the rumor which they were running down. Escobar was one of the
lawless captains of a revolutionary faction who, like his general, had
been keeping to the mountainous out-of-the-way places of Mexico for two
years. In Lower California, together with half a dozen of his bandit
following, he had been taking care of his own skin and