You mind Allardyce , Tom Morgan ? '' `` Aye , aye , '' returned Morgan ; `` I mind him ; he owed me money , he did , and took my knife ashore with him . '' `` Speaking of knives , '' said another , `` why do n't we find his 'n lying round ? Flint war n't the man to pick a seaman 's pocket ; and the birds , I guess , would leave it be . '' `` By the powers , and that 's true ! '' cried Silver . `` There ai n't a thing left here , '' said Merry , still feeling round among the bones ; `` not a copper doit nor a baccy box . It do n't look nat ` ral to me . '' `` No , by gum , it do n't , '' agreed Silver ; `` not nat ` ral , nor not nice , says you . Great guns ! Messmates , but if Flint was living , this would be a hot spot for you and me . Six they were , and six are we ; and bones is what they are now . '' `` I saw him dead with these here deadlights , '' said Morgan . `` Billy took me in . There he laid , with penny-pieces on his eyes . '' `` Dead -- aye , sure enough he 's dead and gone below , '' said the fellow with the bandage ; `` but if ever sperrit walked , it would be Flint 's . Dear heart , but he died bad , did Flint ! '' `` Aye , that he did , '' observed another ; `` now he raged , and now he hollered for the rum , and now he sang . ` Fifteen Men ' were his only song , mates ; and I tell you true , I never rightly liked to hear it since . It was main hot , and the windy was open , and I hear that old song comin ' out as clear as clear -- and the death-haul on the man already . ''
`` Come , come , '' XXXXX Silver ; `` stow this talk .
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