"Right! thanks very much. I'll think about it."
Holm brightened up at the prospect of a deal, and forgot all about Betty, blue eyes, dark lashes, fair hair and all.
"Garner, get hold of Bramsen sharp as ever you can, and tell him to go on board that Spaniard at Hoeg's wharf, and have a thorough look round."
A few minutes later Bramsen himself appeared, breathless with haste.
"I've been on board already, Mr. Holm, pretty near every evening. They've a nigger cook that plays all sorts of dance tunes on a bit of a clay warbler he's got; it's really worth hearing...."
"Yes, yes, but the vessel herself. Is she any good, do you know?"
"Well, not much, I take it, though it doesn't show, perhaps. I talked to the carpenter, and he said her bottom was as full of holes as a rusty sieve; it's only the paint that keeps her afloat. He showed me a queer thing too, that carpenter; I've never seen anything like it."
"What sort of a thing?"
"It was a magic cow, he said, got it in Pensacola. You just wind it up, and it walks along the deck, and lowers its head and says, 'Moo-oh!'"
"What about the upper works?"