u. I will be
just such a man, such a devil as all the rest, I'll be no disgrace to
your band. You will never repent having made my acquaintance. I beseech,
I implore you to say a good word to the captain for me. Oh, you good,
brave man, you leader with the face of a hero, give me your hand, that I
may kiss it."

"Rise," said Barthelemy curtly. "We _do_ need a surgeon, I'll take you."

"What! a surgeon among us!" growled Moody, who was still bound to the
mast, "a surgeon who, whenever one of our band is wounded in the hand or
foot, will cut it off? A living human saw? A poisoner, who won't let a
man die in peace? I've no use for him. Throw him out of the ship, or
I'll kill him."

"Not another word, Moody!" cried Barthelemy. "It is my wish, and so it
shall be. You manage the ropes and sails, but you need not trouble
yourself about anything else."

"I beg you, sir," said Scudamore, "not to vex our valiant captain, you
seem to be such a worthy man, I know I shall have the warmest regard for
you."

"Come nearer, so that I can see you," said Moody. And when Scudamore
approached near enough for him to reach him with his foot, he gave him
such a kick that he nearly fell over backward.

"Men!" shouted Barthelemy, "bring me the cat o' nine tails. Give this
man thirty blows on the back. Whoever disobeys me must suffer for it."

The nine-lashed scourge was instantly brought. "To work at once!"
Barthelemy commanded. "No one is exempt from punishment."

Moody's eyes fairly started from their sockets with rage, and when the
man bearing the cat o' nine tails approached him, he began to throw
himself frantically to the right and left, but thereby only caused the
blows to fall on him haphazard, till at last one knocked the pipe from
his mouth.

Barthelemy coolly awaited the end of the punishment, and then called
Scudamore to write his name in the list of pirates. Scudamore seized the
pen with eager joy, and wrote his signature with such horrible glee that
even the robbers were startled, and then, turning to Captain Rolls,
exclaimed scornfully:

"When you reach London, inform the government of my new occupation."

Skyrme laid his huge hand on his shoulder and muttered between his
teeth: "You scoundrel, you'll make a first-class devil."

"At least as good as any of you."

From that moment, Scudamore felt perfectly at home in his new sphere,
looking at the list with his name enrolled as if it were some diabolical
patent of