Bill smiled to himself. He had told Will that he wanted a glance at the miserable miscreants what had turned him loose in Poseidon's Playland. Bootstrap wondered how naïve his son really was. Will had told this to his wife, Elizabeth, who, in turn, had asked her father to allow Bootstrap into the prison. Bootstrap still wasn't sure if the Governor believed his merchant story.

"Here ye go," the soldier informed Bill. "These is the miserable curs what attacked your ship."

Bill nodded his thanks, chuckling at the surprise in Ragetti and Pintel's faces.

"Bootstrap," Ragetti whispered in obvious disbelief. "But how? You was killed."

Bill shook his head. "You should know better, Ragetti. "Member the curse? T'was that what kept me from dying. Now, I need your help."

"'Course. Anythin for an ole shipmate," Pintel reassured him. "But we can't do nothing locked up like this."
"What about Barbossa? He's captain. 'Tis his duty to take care of his crew."

Pintel's eyes widened. "You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hear what," Bootstrap demanded.

"Barbossa. He died. Jack Sparrow killed him."

Bill clasped his head in his hands. His plan. It was all going to ruin before he'd even had one chance to get even with Sparrow. His eyes lit up. "D'you s'pose that if the gold rendered us immortal, it could bring Barbossa back from the dead," Bill questioned aloud.

Pintel smiled. "Only one way t'find out. Acourse, we'd help, but, like I said before," his voice drifted off.

"Bill smiled. "Don't worry. Me son tole me how he 'rescued Sparrow. I reckon I can get you out of these cells."