"I suppose so," said the sailor, "but I'm a reformer and my business is to talk, not work."
"That's just what we want you to do," said Owen and Hicks in answer.
Then they found a table in the rear of a saloon where they could unfold their plan.
Boyd was to be introduced to a foolish young girl who had a barrel of money. He was to tell her a deep-sea yam along certain lines, and Owen and Hicks would take care of the rest.
"The question is," said Owen, "whether you can talk and act like a sort of reformed pirate."
"Leave that to me," he assured them, and led the way out of the saloon and into still another grimy and disreputable place. It was Axel Olofsen's pawnshop and second-hand general supply and clothing store.
After much pawing over ancient, worn and rusty weapons, Boyd was at last fitted out. Ole was paid about sixty per cent of what he asked and left to the enjoyment of his Scandinavian melancholy.
"You look like a pirate now, sure enough," said Owen, observing Boyd's effect on the driver of the taxicab.
"I look it, but I don't quite feel it yet," said Boyd, with deep meaning. "There is something lacking."
"What can it be?" asked Hicks.