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I Strike the Jolly Roger

           Nowandagaintootherewouldcomeacloudoflightspraysoverthebulwarkandaheavyblowoftheship’sbowsagainsttheswell;somuchheavierweatherwasmadeofitbythisgreatriggedshipthanbymyhome-made,lop-sidedcoracle,nowgonetothebottomofthesea.

           Ateveryjumpoftheschooner,red-capslippedtoandfro,butwhatwasghastlytobeholdneitherhisattitudenorhisfixedteeth-disclosinggrinwasanywaydisturbedbythisroughusage.Ateveryjumptoo,Handsappearedstillmoretosinkintohimselfandsettledownuponthedeck,hisfeetslidingeverthefartherout,andthewholebodycantingtowardsthestern,sothathisfacebecame,littlebylittle,hidfromme;andatlastIcouldseenothingbeyondhisearandthefrayedringletofonewhisker.

           Atthesametime,Iobserved,aroundbothofthem,splashesofdarkbloodupontheplanksandbegantofeelsurethattheyhadkilledeachotherintheirdrunkenwrath.

           WhileIwasthuslookingandwondering,inacalmmoment,whentheshipwasstill,IsraelHandsturnedpartlyroundandwithalowmoanwrithedhimselfbacktothepositioninwhichIhadseenhimfirst.Themoan,whichtoldofpainanddeadlyweakness,andthewayinwhichhisjawhungopenwentrighttomyheart.ButwhenIrememberedthetalkIhadoverheardfromtheapplebarrel,allpityleftme.

           IwalkedaftuntilIreachedthemain-mast.

           "Comeaboard,Mr.Hands,"Isaidironically.

           Herolledhiseyesroundheavily,buthewastoofargonetoexpresssurprise.Allhecoulddowastoutteroneword,"Brandy."

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