Porto Bello gold

I was in the counting-room, talking with Peter Corlaer, the chief of our fur-traders--he was that very day come down-river from the Iroquois country--when the boy, Darby, ran in...

The next morning I was occupied for several hours in checking over the needs of our trading-stations with Peter Corlaer, so that it was the middle of the forenoon before I was a...

We sat late at dinner that night, for my father must needs have me repeat at length the tale of my experiences during the day, revealing a perturbation unusual in him, although...

My poor father’s face, with the tears standing in his eyes, was the last object I saw in the wan light of the guttering candles. The next moment my captors lugged me into the da...

I woke with a ray of sunshine streaming across my face through the thick, greenish glass of a deadlight and an odd feeling of contentment. Mice were cheeping in the paneling at...

There was a noticeable tightening of discipline after my great-uncle’s admonition to Bones, and Peter and I were let severely alone, except by Silver, who, I think, found satisf...

Murray led us to a door in the break of the poop which was opened for us by a stalwart black in a red livery coat, who ushered us along a companionway lined with stateroom doors...

“Gunn,” he said as the steward sidled in, “we are awaiting the food I ordered. But stay! Open a window before you go. This place reeks with the stench of decayed honor.”

One day was like another aboard the _Royal James_, although to a landsman the routine of duties, work and varying weather was charged with unending interest. My great-uncle held...

The watch aboard the _Royal James_ challenged us as we made fast by the larboard side-ladder, and when we climbed over the bulwarks to the deck Master Martin flashed a lanthorn...

“‘The old devil yon,’” he repeated. “---- me, but it takes Darby to put the right word to a man. ’Tis what he is, blast him for the ---- ---- ---- he sets himself up to be!”

There was no hint of triumph in my great-uncle’s manner as the sloop came about and lay to under our lee quarter; nor did he exhibit excitement when she unloosed the small boat...

The silence was oppressive as we ascended the poop ladder. A last babble of Latin ended on an hysterical note. The Spanish captain glared his hatred, gnawing at his hands as he...

“We have had sufficient to drink, Ben,” he said and, heedless of the Irishman’s disappointed face, waved away that which had been before them as well as the new array of bottles...

From the Dead Man’s Chest the _Royal James_ headed northwest into the Atlantic. Murray knew that the _Santissima Trinidad_ must have sent the tidings of his feat the length and...

The candles burned with a steady, spear-shaped flame, undeviating, motionless, so that the shadows were cast upon the paneling of the cabin walls in solid blocks like streaks of...

We heard the _Walrus_ before we had sight of her--the slatting of a head-sail, a rattling block, a vague creak of cordage. Then an impression of a mighty shadow, a towering spid...

Another less self-assured than Andrew Murray must have been dismayed by the series of misfortunes which had beset him. We were safe, but no more. The _Royal James_ was taking in...

Daylight revealed the _Walrus_ heading in toward the mouth of the Anchorage; but the smoke from our cooking-fires obviously puzzled her, and she heaved to and lowered a boat whi...

“Ah!” jeered Flint. “But ye see I’m not waiting for sunup or moonset or aught else, my Buckskin. We know how many o’ ye there are; and if ye don’t surrender, why, we’ll put a to...

He tugged at his cutlass-hilt, and Darby, in no wise daunted, hauled forth a pistol as long as his arm. But before one could assail the other Flint shoved in from the companionw...

Murray had predicted that the looting of the _Sanctissima Trinidad_ would send the frigates to sea from Santo Domingo, St. Pierre, the Havana and Kingston, and the adventures of...

The clumping became a measured tramp as four tall seamen carried out the canvas cylinder that had been John Flint. A babble of grief from Darby broke the silence. We could hear...

A chorus of yelping certified to the invasion of the main cabin, but its note of triumph was changed to consternation as Silver’s bloodhounds discovered that their bird had flown.