“All right,” said the steamer captain. “Now that I come to think, I’m sorry I made so good an offer. I begin to believe you have an underwriter’s job of it. You haven’t been to San Francisco.”
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars,” said Collins, without paying any attention to the other’s last remark.
“No, not a cent lower than three hundred. I wouldn’t do it for that, if I had not already offered to. I’ll swear, I believe that is the Brewster! We heard of it.”
“The what?” said Collins.
“The Brewster. Come, isn’t it now? Captain Adams, of the Moro Castle, reported her returning in distress.”
“What do I know of the Blueskin? I never heard of such a ship.—Come, I’ll give you two hundred and fifty.”
“No, three hundred; not a cent less. I’ll put you alongside the pier for that.”
“O, you’re a hard one! Well, you can tow us in, and I’ll lick you the first time I catch you in New York. Mind, now, you are to take the ship to the pier whenever I want you to. I will anchor in the harbor to-day.”
“All right; I’ll stick to that.”
“Well, Mr. Gorham, give him our hawser.”