Christo, Pedro, and the three Dutchmen, who didn't
know what they were up against. They wanted an immediate count up and
division; then, each man to go his way. The nonsense of it did not
strike them; thirteen men to divide up seven heavy chests--each one
shouldering seven-thirteenths of a load that took the whole thirteen to
lift with a four-fold tackle. We asked the Jap cook what he thought,
but he had no opinion.

"It's somewhat curious how the different men of that bunch had
different ideas of what they wanted. Young Peters wanted to go back to
his native town and win the girl that had soured on him because he was
poor. Pango, Pedro, and the two Sou'wegians only wanted a big drunk.
Old man Sullivan wanted a course in a Nautical School and a first
mate's certificate. The three Germans wanted to get to New York and set
up in the saloon business. Gleason wanted to study law, and I wanted to
study medicine and be a doctor, a gentleman who could enter any society
in the world. The Jap didn't give out his aspirations.

"And so, growling like an unhappy family in a menagerie, we sailed
east, with the question unsettled. But at last we won over the Dagoes
and the Dutchmen, and agreed upon New York as a port, and the selling
of the jewels in some Bowery pawnshop, where no questions are asked.
Then we shook hands all round, gave the Jap hell about his cooking--for
we had been too worried to attend to that matter before--and squared
away before the trade wind for Sandy Hook and a market.

"From jealousy and mutual distrust, we all slept in the cabin. There
were plenty of staterooms for the crowd, though some of us doubled up.
None of us wanted to remain away from the seven chests of treasure, and
the Japanese cook, who might have slept in the cook's room next the
galley, still showed a preference for his room in the cabin, and we did
not contest it. But now we were millionaires and easy--dead easy. We
stood watch, steered and trimmed sail with no man for boss, for now the
work was done, Gleason and myself and the nigger Pango gave up our
false positions. We were a democracy, and loved and trusted one
another, only, when we roused out the watch below and found that old
man Sullivan did not come, and on investigation found him stone dead in
his berth without a sign of violence, we forgot our brotherly love and
began to wonder.

"We did not know what he died of, but we gave him sea burial that day,
and Gleason read a chapter