"We'll ferry over now if you like,
or, if you prefer to go by yourselves, do; Bill Brisket is not the man to
stand in anyone's way, whether he gets anything out of it or not."
"Hold hard," said Mr. Stobell, putting up his hand.
Captain Brisket regarded him with a beaming smile; Mr. Stobell's two
friends waited patiently.
"What ud a schooner like that fetch?" inquired Mr. Stobell.
"It all depends," said Brisket. "Of course, if I buy--"
Mr. Stobell held up his hand again. "All depends whether you buy it for
us or sell it for the man it belongs to, I s'pose?" he said, slowly.
Captain Brisket jumped up, and to Mr. Chalk's horror smote the speaker
heavily on the back. Mr. Stobell, clenching a fist the size of a leg of
mutton, pushed his chair back and prepared to rise.
"You're a trump," said Captain Brisket, in tones of unmistakable
respect, "that's what you are. Lord, if I'd got the head for business
you have I should be a man of fortune by now."
Mr. Stobell, who had half risen, sat down again, and, for the first time
since his last contract but one, a smile played lightly about the corners
of his mouth. He took another drink and, shaking his head slightly as he
put the glass down, smiled again with the air of a man who has been
reproached for making a pun.
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