Part 21 (1/2)
”They're goin' to make a landin', Gib.”
”--then I deduct that this body-s.n.a.t.c.hin' Scraggs----”
”They're boardin' us, Gib.”
”--has arranged with yon fat Chinaman to relieve us o' the unwelcome presence of his defunct friends. _He's gone an' hunted up the relatives an' made 'em come across_--that's what he's done. The dirty, low, schemin' granddaddy of all the foxes in Christendom! Wasn't I the numbskull not to think of it myself?”
”'Tain't too late to mend your ways, Gib. I don't see Scraggs nowhere,” Mr. McGuffey suggested promptly. ”All that remains for me an' you to do, Gib, is to imagine the price, collect the money, an' declare a dividend. Quick, Gib! What'll we ask him?”
”I'll fish around an' see what figger Scraggs charged him,” the cautious Gibney replied and stepped to the rail to meet Gin Seng, for it was indeed he.
”Sow-see, sow-see, hun-gay,” Mr Gibney saluted the Chinaman in a facetious attempt to talk the latter's language. ”h.e.l.lo, there, John Chinaman. How's your liver? Captain he allee same get tired; he no waitee. Wha's mallah, John. Too long time you no come. You heap lazy all time.”
Gin Seng smiled his bland, inscrutable Chinese smile. ”You ketchum two China boy in box?” he queried.
”We have,” boomed McGuffey, ”an' beautiful specimens they be.”
”No money, no China boy,” Gibney added firmly.
”Money have got. Too muchee money you wantee. No can do. Me pay two hundred dollah. Five hundred dollah heap muchee. No have got.”
”Nothin' doin', John. Five hundred dollars an' not a penny less.
Put up the dough or beat it.”
Gin Seng expostulated, lied, evaded, and all but wept, but Mr.
Gibney was obdurate and eventually the Chinaman paid over the money and departed with the remains of his countrymen. ”I knew he'd come through, Bart,” Mr. Gibney declared. ”They got to s.h.i.+p them stiffs to China to rest alongside their ancestors or be in Dutch with the sperrits o' the departed forever after.”
”Do we have to split this swag with that dirty Scraggs?” McGuffey wanted to know. ”Seein' as how he tried to give us the double cross----”
”We'll fix Scraggsy--all s.h.i.+pshape an' legal so's he won't have no comeback. Quick, grab some o' them empty potato crates an'
pile 'em here where the stiffs was lyin' an' cover 'em up with the tarpaulin. I don't want Scraggsy to think the corpses is gone until I've hooked him good and plenty.”
The stage was set in a few minutes and the conspirators set themselves to await the return of Scraggs. They had not long to wait. Upon his arrival at Gin Seng's place of business Captain Scraggs had been informed that Gin Seng had gone out twenty minutes before, and further inquiry revealed the portentous fact that he had departed in an express wagon. Consumed with misgivings of disaster, Scraggs returned to the _Maggie_ as fast as the California Street cable car and his legs could carry him; as he came aboard his anxious glance sought the tarpaulin-covered boxes on deck and at sight of them his mental thermometer rose at once. In the cabin he found Mr. Gibney and McGuffey playing cribbage. They laid down their hands as Scraggs entered.
”Well, are you all cooled out an' willin' to listen to reason, Scraggsy, old business man?” Gibney greeted him cheerfully.
”None more so, Gib. If you've got a proposition to submit, fire away.”
”That's comfortin', Scraggsy. Well, me an' Bart's been chewing over your proposition to buy out our interest in them two c.h.i.n.ks, an' as the upshot of our talk we made up our minds to sell, but not for no measly little five bucks' profit. Now, Scraggsy, you old he-devil, on your honour as between s.h.i.+pmates, you got to admit five dollars ain't hardly worth considerin'. Come down to earth now. You know blamed well you're expectin' to pull out with a neat profit an' that you can afford to boost that five-dollar ante. What would you consider a fair price for a one-third interest? Be honest an' fair, Scraggsy.”
Captain Scraggs sat down, beaming. With Mr. Gibney in this frame of mind he knew he could do anything with him. ”Well, now, Gib, my _dear_ boy, if a man was to get twenty-five dollars for his interest, I should say he oughtn't to have no kick comin'. I know I wouldn't.”
”If you was sellin' your interest--imagine, now, that you're me an' I'm you--would you be satisfied to sell for twenty-five dollars?”
”I certainly would, Gib, my boy. Why, that's almost four hundred per cent. profit, an' any man that'd turn up his nose at a four hundred per cent. profit ought to go an' have his head examined by a competent nut doctor.”
”Well, if you feel that way about it, all right, Scraggsy,” Mr.
Gibney replied slowly and put his hand in his pocket. ”As I remarked previous, while you're away me an' Bart gets chewin' over the proposition an' decides we'll sell. An' to show you what a funny world this is, while me an' Bart's settin' on deck a-waitin' for you to come back an' close with us, along breezes a fat old Chinaman in an express wagon an' offers to buy them two cases of Oriental goods.
He makes me an' Mac what we considers a fair offer for our two-thirds. You ain't around to offer suggestions an' as it's a take-it-or-leave-it proposition an' two-thirds o' the stock is represented in me an' Mac an' accordin' to your rulin' the majority's got the decidin' vote, we ups an' smothers his offer.