“‘Twenty-two cents,’ corrected the bookkeeper.’

“‘Twenty-two cents,’ said Aaron.  ‘An’ what good does it do me?  Nothin’ ’t all.  What can I buy with it, here on this here island?  Nothin’.  Here I am—­an’ here we all be—­scorched an’ burnt by the sun, and bit by these here scorpions, an’ other varmints, an’ dressed in rags an’ tatters, an’ all the while, all that loot of our’n lyin’ there idle in the ground.’

“At this moment Black Pedro leaped four feet into the air, and gave a bellow like an infuriated tiger.

“‘What?’ he yelled, ’what? you dogs! you scoundrels! you miserable, low-down ruffians you!  Oh, that I should have lived to see this day!  Thankful am I that my father and grand-father are safe in their graves!  This would have broken their hearts.  Why, you horrible villains,—­do you mean to tell me that you have been doing all this pirating for money?’

“Aaron Halyard scraped his feet in the sand, and shuffled about uneasily.

“‘Beggin’ yer pardin’, Cap’n, but what in Sancho have we been doin’ of it for, else?’

“Black Pedro gave a moan, and then another bellow of rage.

“’Out of my sight, you miserable, sordid scoundrels,—­out of my sight!  What?  You defy me, do you?  This is mutiny!  Take that!  And that!’

“He snatched two pistols from his sash and commenced firing, right and left.  The first shot hit Mike the Shark and doubled up the book-keeper like a jack-knife, and the second one did the same for Sandy Buggins.

“‘Hold hard, Cap’n!’ cried the old bo’s’n, ’p’r’aps you’ll tell us what all this pirating was for, if it wa’n’t for money.’

“’It was for the joy of pirating, you old rascal, as you ought to know.  It was for the pure love of the thing.  And to think that all these years I have been leading a base gang of money-getters!’

“And he grabbed another couple of pistols out of his boots, and began firing once more.  At this, the pirates lost their patience.  They gave a deep roar, like a herd of angry buffalo, and closed in on their Captain.  He jumped back, and continued to fire.  They swarmed around him, and in a few minutes that group of pirates, who had always lived together like brothers, had changed into a blood-thirsty mob.  Knives flashed and pistols cracked.  Some of them hit each other in their excitement, and that made them so angry that they turned and fought amongst themselves.  In the meantime, the Captain was firing his pistols and slashing with his cutlasses, and making terrible havoc amongst his followers.  In ten minutes all was over.  Of that proud band of pirates, once the terror of the Spanish Main, only two men were left alive.  These were Black Pedro himself, slightly wounded in the leg, but still able to walk, and old Aaron Halyard, the bo’s’n.  Aaron was running at top speed toward the beach, trying to get to a small boat.  A little way behind him came the Captain.