The man pointed to a small but handsome single-sticker that lay within a short distance of Lord Stanford’s boat.
“It seems to me that you said last night that you wished to sell her.”
“I do.”
“How much will you take for her as she lays?”
“She cost me fifteen hundred dollars, but I am anxious to sell, and I will take a thousand.”
“I’ll take her.”
John Chandler gasped for breath, and then smiled doubtingly.
“That is easily said, but I must have ready cash for her, and——”
“You shall have ready cash. I will give you a check on the Nevada Bank, where I have an account. My guardian fully expected I would need plenty of money by the time I reached San Francisco, and he arranged it for me, so I am able to secure almost any reasonable sum. There will be no trouble or delay in getting your money.”
Chandler still looked doubtful, as it seemed rather improbable that this lad could draw so much money on short notice.