After breakfast the squire gave me a note for John Silver at the Spyglass, a little inn by the docks with a big brass telescope as its sign. It was full of sailors who talked so loudly that I stopped at the door, almost afraid to go in.
A man came out of a side room, and I was sure at once that he was Long John. His left leg was cut off near the hip, and he moved about on a crutch as quickly as a bird. He was very tall and strong, with a big, pale, intelligent face, and he whistled cheerfully as he went between the tables.
To tell the truth, ever since the squire’s letter, I had been afraid that Long John was the sailor with one leg I had watched for at the Admiral Benbow. But one look was enough. I had seen the captain, and Black Dog, and Pew, and I thought I knew what pirates looked like. This clean, friendly man was nothing like them.
“Mr. Silver, sir?” I asked, and I held out the note.
“Yes, lad, that’s my name. And who are you?” Then he saw the squire’s handwriting, and he seemed almost to jump. “Oh!” he said loudly. “You’re our new cabin boy. I’m pleased to see you.” And he took my hand in his large, strong one.
Just then a man at the far side of the room jumped up and ran out of the door. I knew him at once: the pale man with two fingers missing.
“Oh, stop him!” I cried. “It’s Black Dog!”
“I don’t care who he is,” cried Silver, “but he hasn’t paid for his drinks. Harry, run and catch him!” Then he turned to me. “Who did you say he was?”
“Black Dog, sir. Hasn’t Mr. Trelawney told you about the pirates? He was one of them.”
“What? In my house! Ben, run and help Harry. Morgan, were you drinking with him? Come here.”
Morgan, an old, gray-haired sailor, came forward, looking ashamed.
“Now, Morgan,” said Long John sternly, “you never saw that Black Dog before, did you?”
“No, sir.”
“Lucky for you! If you were mixed up with men like that, you would never set foot in my house again. Go back to your seat.”
Then he whispered to me, “He’s an honest man, Morgan, only stupid.” And he went on aloud, “Black Dog? No, I don’t know the name. But I think I’ve seen him here with a blind beggar.”
“I knew that blind man too,” I said. “His name was Pew.”
“Pew! That was his name!” cried Silver. “If we catch this Black Dog, there’ll be news for the squire!”
All this time he was hopping up and down the room and hitting the tables with his hand. When I found Black Dog at the Spyglass, all my fears had come back, and I watched the cook closely. But he was too clever for me. When the two men came back out of breath and said they had lost Black Dog in the crowd, Silver was so angry with them that I was sure he was innocent.
“See here, Hawkins,” he said, “what will the squire think? That man drank my own rum in my own house, and I let him get away! You’re young, but you’re a clever one. What could I do on this old crutch? But—”
He stopped suddenly, as if he had remembered something.
“His bill!” he cried. “Three glasses of rum! Shiver my timbers, I forgot about his bill!”
He fell onto a bench and laughed until the tears ran down his face, and I could not help laughing with him.
“What a silly old sailor I am!” he said at last. “You and I will get on well, Hawkins. But come, I’ll walk with you to the squire. This is serious.”
On the way he told me about the ships we passed, and I began to think he was the best shipmate anyone could have. At the inn, Long John told the squire and Dr. Livesey the whole story, truthfully. “That’s how it was, isn’t it, Hawkins?” he said now and then, and I always agreed. The gentlemen were sorry that Black Dog had got away, but nothing could be done. Long John took his crutch and left.
“All hands on board by four this afternoon!” the squire called after him.
“Aye, aye, sir!” cried the cook.
“Well, squire,” said Dr. Livesey, “I don’t usually trust your discoveries, but I will say this: John Silver suits me.”
“The man is perfect,” said the squire. “Take your hat, Hawkins, and we’ll go and see the ship.”