"Well," Pulz began, "we've been here on this spot o' hell for a long time."
"A year and five months," reckoned Thrackles.
"A man can do a lot in that time."
"If he's busy."
"They've been busy."
"Yes."
"Wonder what they've done?"
There was no answer to this, and the sea lawyer took a new tack.
"I suppose we're all getting double wages."
"That's so."
"And that's say four hunder' for us and Mr. Eagen here. I suppose the Old Man don't let the schooner go for nothing."
"Two hundred and fifty a month," said I, and then would have had the words back.
They cried out in prolonged astonishment.
"Seventeen months," pursued the logician after a few moments. He scratched with a stub of lead. "That makes over eleven thousand dollars since we've been out. How much do you suppose his outfit stands him?" he appealed to me.
"I'm sure I can't tell you," I replied shortly.
"Well, it's a pile of money, anyway."
Nobody said anything for some time.
"Wonder what they've done?" Pulz asked again.
"Something that pays big." Thrackles supplied the desired answer.
"Dat chis'" suggested Perdosa.
"Voodoo" muttered the Nigger.
"That's to scare us out," said Handy Solomon,
