be sure," said I. "I knew that blind man, too. His
name was Pew."

"It was!" cried Silver, now quite excited. "Pew! That were his name for
certain. Ah, he looked a shark, he did! If we run down this Black Dog,
now, there'll be news for Cap'n Trelawney! Ben's a good runner; few
seamen run better than Ben. He should run him down, hand over hand, by
the powers! He talked o' keel-hauling, did he? _I'll_ keel-haul him!"

All the time he was jerking out these phrases he was stumping up and down
the tavern on his crutch, slapping tables with his hand, and giving such
a show of excitement as would have convinced an Old Bailey judge or a Bow
Street runner. My suspicions had been thoroughly reawakened on finding
Black Dog at the "Spy-glass," and I watched the cook narrowly. But he was
too deep, and too ready, and too clever for me, and by the time the two
men had come back out of breath, and confessed that they had lost the
track in a crowd, and been scolded like thieves, I would have gone bail
for the innocence of Long John Silver.

"See here, now, Hawkins," said he, "here's a blessed hard thing on a man
like me, now, ain't it? There's Cap'n Trelawney--what's he to think? Here
I have this confounded son of a Dutchman sitting in my own house,
drinking of my own rum! Here you comes and tells me of it plain; and here
I let him give us all the slip before my blessed dead-lights! Now,
Hawkins, you do me justice with the cap'n. You're a lad, you are, but
you're as smart as paint. I see that when you first came in. Now, here it
is: What could I do, with this old timber I hobble on? When I was an A B
master mariner I'd have come up alongside of him, hand over hand, and
broached him to in a brace of old shakes, I would; but now----"

And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and his jaw dropped as though he
had remembered something.

"The score!" he burst out. "Three goes o' rum! Why, shiver my timbers,
if I hadn't forgotten my score!"

And, falling on a bench, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks.
I could not help joining; and we laughed together, peal after peal, until
the tavern rang again.

"Why, what a precious old sea-calf I am!" he said at last, wiping his
cheeks. "You and me should get on well, Hawkins, for I'll take my davy I
should be rated ship's boy. But come now, stand by to go about. This
won't do. Dooty is dooty, messmates. I'll put on my old cocked hat, and
step along of you to Cap'n Trelawney, and report t