Dolores’s eyes flashed angrily; she governed her fury, and went on when the uproar subsided: “Your boats are ready?”

“Ready and rotting wi’ idleness!” roared Hanglip.

“And ye purpose wasting powder and shot on some paltry craft of the islands! Wait, my brave lads, I have better game at hand!”

Now the crowd was hushed in earnest, for none of them saw more than a frolic coming from such a small craft as the schooner. The girl went on to tell them of the big ship that Milo had seen, and she painted it a rich West Indiaman, loaded to the hatches with rum and powder, gold and jewels, delicate meats and — with emphasis which she carefully cloaked yet made vivid — dainty ladies, no doubt.