x-convict clutches at the bottle pours some rum into
his pannikin, and offers it to Padilla.

The Spaniard accepting, drinks; and passing the cup to Velarde, sits
down.

The latter imitating him as to the drink, takes seat by his side; Old
Tarry and Slush having already disposed of themselves.

"Now," pursues the second mate, "let's hear what it's all about."

"Theer be two not yit among us," says Striker. "In coorse, one's at the
wheel."

"Yes; Gomez is there," responds Padilla.

"Where be Hernandez?"

"I don't know. Likely, along with him."

"Don't much matter," puts in Davis. "I dar' say we can settle the thing
without either. You begin, Jack; tell Mr Padilla, and the rest, what
we've been talking about."

"'Twon't take a very long time to tell it," responds Striker. "Theer be
no great need for wastin' words. All I've got to say are, that the
_swag shud be eekilly divided_."

Padilla starts, Velarde doing the same.

"What do you mean?" asks the former, putting on an air of innocence.

"I means what I've saved--that the swag shud be eekilly divided."

"And yet I don't understand you."

"Yis, ye do. Come, Master Padilla, 'tain't no use shammin' ignorance--
not wi' Jack Striker, at all events. He be too old a bird to get
cheated wi' chaff. If ye want to throw dust into my eyes, it must be o'
the sort that's stowed aft in the cuddy. Now, d'ye understan' me?"
Padilla looks grave, so does Velarde. Old Tarry and Slush show no sign
of feeling; both being already prepared for the demand Striker intended
to make, and having given their promise to back it.

"Well," says the second mate, "you appear to be talking of some
gold-dust. And, I suppose, you know all about it!"

"That we do," responds Striker.

"Well, what then?" asks Padilla.

"Only what I've sayed," rejoins the Sydney Duck. "If you weesh, I can
say it over 'gain. That theer yellow stuff shud be measured out to the
crew o' this craft share and share alike, even hands all roun' without
respectin' o' parsons. An', by God! it shall be so deevided--shall,
will, an' must."

"Yes!" endorses Davis, with like emphatic affirmation.

"It shall, and it must!"

"_Pe gar_, most it!" adds the Frenchman; followed in the same strain by
Stronden the Dane, and Van Houton the Dutchman, chorused by Old Tarry
and Slush.

"It an't no use your stannin' out, masters," continues Striker,
addressing himself to the two Spaniards. "Ye see the majority