what mean you by this?
What's all this show of cutlasses?"

The ringleader stepped forwards. "We're sick of doing nothing," he
answered. "We've come on a wild goose chase. There's no treasure here.
We mean you no harm; we want not the ship out of your hands."

"Then," cried Phips, "in the name of all the devils, what want you?"

"Here's as we think: there's nothing to be got out of this hunt, but
there's treasure on the high seas all the same. Here's our offer: keep
command of your ship and run up the black flag!"

Phips's arm shot out and dropped the man to the ground.

"That's it, you filthy rogues!" he roared. "Me to turn pirate, eh?
You'd set to weaving ropes for the necks of every one of us--blood of my
soul!"

He seemed not to know that cutlasses were threatening him, not to be
aware that the man at his feet, clutching his weapon, was mad with rage.

"Now look," he said, in a big loud voice, "I know that treasure is here,
and I know we'll find it; if not now, when we get Bucklaw on his feet."

"Ay! Bucklaw! Bucklaw!" ran through the throng.

"Well, then, Bucklaw, as you say! Now here's what I'll do, scoundrels
though you be. Let me hear no more of this foolery. Stick to me till the
treasure's found--for God take my soul if I leave this bay till I have
found it!--and you shall have good share of booty."

He had grasped the situation with such courage that the mutineers
hesitated. He saw his advantage and followed it up, asking for three of
their number to confer with him as to a bond upon his proposal. After
a time the mutineers consented, the bond was agreed to, and the search
went on.

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE TREASURE HOUSE

The canoes and tender kept husking up and down among the Shallows,
finding nothing. At last one morning they pushed out from the side of
the Bridgwater Merchant, more limp than ever. The stroke of the oars was
listless, but a Boston sailor of a merry sort came to a cheery song:

"I knows a town, an' it's a fine town,
And many a brig goes sailin' to its quay;
I knows an inn, an' it's a fine inn,
An' a lass that's fair to see.
I knows a town, an' it's a fine town;
I knows an inn, an' it's a fine inn
But O my lass! an' O the gay gown,
Which I have seen my pretty in!

"I knows a port, an' it's a good port,
An' many a brig is ridin' easy there;
I knows a home, an' it's a good home,