g about the treasure, 'twas most likely through
George that they'd come to know it. So I says, `He was steward aboard
here until the skipper sacked him in Sydney.'

"`I s'pose you'd know him again if you was to see him?' he says; and he
looked at me in a curious sort of way that makes me think, `Now, what
the mischief are you a-drivin' at? It's my belief, Joe,' thinks I,
`that this chap's layin' a trap for you; and if you don't keep your
weather eye liftin', you'll fall into it, my lad,' thinks I. So I just
says, careless-like--

"`Oh yes, in course I should.'

"`When did you see him last?' says Rogers.

"`The last time I seen him,' says I, `was the day we arrived in Sydney,
when the skipper paid him off and he left the ship.'

"`Quite sure?' says Bill.

"`Certain,' says I.

"Then he laughed, and he says, `Well, Joe, you're a more simple sort of
a feller than I give you credit for bein'. Come into the galley,' he
says, `and let me introjuce you to an old friend.'

"So we went into the galley together, and there was cookie busy amongst
his pots and pans. When he sees us come in, he looks hard at Bill, and
he says--

"`Well?'

"I tell you, Cap'n Saint Leger, you might ha' knocked me down with a
rope-yarn, I was that astonished--for the voice was the voice of _George
Moore_, and no other.

"Hows'ever, all this backin' and fillin' of Bill's had put me on my
guard. I began to understand that, after all my play-actin', they
didn't even then feel altogether sure of me--they was tryin' me still;
and that made me brace up and pull myself together; for I says to
myself, `Now, if I makes a single mistake it's all up with everybody
abaft the mainmast, and me, too.' So I looks cookie hard in the face,
and I says--

"`Now I knows you, George, spite of your black hair and all your beard
and mustachers. What's the meanin' of this here maskeradin'? Tip us
your flipper, old shipmate,' I says, hearty like, and as if I was
downright glad to see him.

"Well, sir, I can tell you George looked considerable nonplussed; while
Bill, he just laughed; and he says to George, `Jacob, my son, you've
been and let the cat out of the bag!' Then he turns to me and says--

"`Now, Joe, there you are! Now's your chance to get back the skipper's
favour by goin' aft and tellin' him as his old steward, George Moore, is
aboard here, sailin' under false colours.'

"`If he does,' says George, `he'd better look out for hisself!'

"