there an' say nay to my aye!"

He pulled two pistols from beneath his coat, cocked them deliberately
and stared insolently and inquiringly around.

"What d'ye say to it, Bill Brennen?" he asked.

Bill Brennen shuffled his big feet uneasily, and eyed the pistols
askance.

"Thank ye kindly, skipper. Ye speaks the truth," said he.

"An' ye, Nick Leary?"

"Ye bes skipper here, sure--aye, and more nor skipper. But for ye we'd
all be starved to death wid hunger an' cold," said Nick.

"An' what says the rest o' ye? Who denies me the right to four shares o'
the money?"

"Me, Dennis Nolan!" said Dick Lynch. "I denies ye the right."

"Step up an' say it to my face," cried the skipper.

"Aye, step up an' give it to him straight," said one of the men. "Step
up, Dick, I bes wid ye."

"Who said that?" roared the skipper.

"Sure, 'twas me said it," growled one, Dan Keen.

"Be there four o' ye denies me the right to the money in me pocket?"
asked the skipper.

"Aye, there bes four o' us."

"Then step out, the four o' ye."

Dick Lynch, Dan Keen and two others shuffled to the front of the group.
Black Dennis Nolan looked them over with fury in his eyes and a sneer on
his lips. He called up Bill Brennen and Nick Leary, and gave a pistol to
each of them, and exchanged a few guarded words with them.

"Dick Lynch, Dan Keen, Corny Quinn an' Pat Lynch, stand where ye be," he
said. "Ease back along the wall, the rest o' ye. I'll larn ye who bes
skipper an' master o' this harbor! I'll larn ye if I bes as good as the
four o' ye or not."

He slipped off his coat, with the weight of coined gold in the pockets
of it, stepped swiftly around the end of the table and sprang furiously
upon the four men who had denied his right to four shares of the loot.

"I'll larn ye!" he roared.

Three of them, all husky fellows, stood their ground; but the fourth
turned and dashed clear of the field of instruction. He was a small man,
was Corny Quinn, and lacked the courage of his convictions.

The skipper struck the group of three with both feet off the ground.
They staggered, clutched at him, aimed blows and curses at him. A
terrible kick delivered by Dan Keen missed its intended object and
brought Pat Lynch writhing to the floor, and before Dan fully realized
his mistake something as hard as the side of a house struck him on the
jaw and laid him across the victim of his error. Dick Lynch was more
fortunate than his fellow-mutineers--fo