“Precisely,” laughed Rutley.
His laugh seemed infectious, for Jack joined him with a “Ha, ha, ha, ha. And borrow ten thousand more from old Harris for being a Good Samaritan to his nephew, Sam, eh! Have another, Phil,” and again he laughed as he offered the glass.
Rutley took the glass and filled it. “A forty thousand cleanup, Jack, just for a bit of judicious nerve! He, he, he, he,” and then his laughter ceased, for the simple reason that his lips could not perform the act of drinking and laughing at the same time.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha,” laughed Jack, in response. “A damned good thing, eh, Phil?” and he took the glass, filled it, and drank. “Has anybody heard from Corway?”
“Shanghaied,” laconically replied Rutley.
“He’s off on the British bark Lochlobin. No fear of any trouble from him for several months.”
“How, in the name of God, did you do it?” asked Jack, fairly enthralled with Rutley’s nerve.
“Oh, it was easy. Fixed it up with some sailor boarding-house toughs, but I only got $50 out of it all told, including his watch. But, my dear boy, that is not all I have planned in this plunge. You know I am desperately in love with the orphan?”
“Hazel!” exclaimed Jack. “Ho, that was plain long ago,” and he laughed again.
“She’s the sweetest little girl in the world, Jack, and the best part of it is, she has a cool hundred thousand in her own right.”