"
"You fellows dig here," said Snipes, indicating a spot beneath
the tree. "And while you're diggin', Peter kin be a-makin'
of a map of the location so's we kin find it again. You,
Tom, and Bill, take a couple more down and fetch up the chest."
"Wot are you a-goin' to do?" asked he of the previous
altercation. "Just boss?"
"Git busy there," growled Snipes. "You didn't think your
Cap'n was a-goin' to dig with a shovel, did you?"
The men all looked up angrily. None of them liked Snipes,
and this disagreeable show of authority since he had
murdered King, the real head and ringleader of the mutineers,
had only added fuel to the flames of their hatred.
"Do you mean to say that you don't intend to take a shovel,
and lend a hand with this work? Your shoulder's not hurt so
all-fired bad as that," said Tarrant, the sailor who had
before spoken.
"Not by a damned sight," replied Snipes, fingering the butt
of his revolver nervously.
"Then, by God," replied Tarrant, "if you won't take a
shovel you'll take a pickax."
With the words he raised his pick above his head, and, with
a mighty blow, he buried the point in Snipes' brain.
For a moment the men stood silently looking at the result
of their fellow's grim humor. Then one of them spoke.
"Served the skunk jolly well right," he said.
One of the others commenced to ply his pick to the
ground.
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