"If he was," retorted Lupton with a dry smile, "my immediate interest in him would cease, and the Company would shrug its shoulders, and pay, and look pleasant. In the mean while he's, shall we say, 'the dear insured,' and a premium paying asset that the Company's told me off to keep an eye on."
"Do much business in your particular line?" "Why yes, recently a good deal. It's got to be quite a fashionable industry of late to pick up some foolish young gentleman with expectations, insure his life for a big pile, knock him quietly on the head, and then come back home in a neat black suit to pocket the proceeds."
"Does this Mr.--" Kettle referred to the passenger list--"Hamilton's the rogue's name, isn't it?"
"No, he's the flat. Cranze is the--er--his friend who stands to draw the stamps."
"Does Mr. Hamilton know you?"
"Never seen me in his life."
"Does this thief Cranze?"
"Same."
"Then, sir, I'll tell you what's your ticket," said Kettle, who had got an eye to business. "Take a passage with me out to the Gulf and back, and keep an eye on the young gentleman yourself. You'll find it a bit cold in the Western Ocean at first, but once we get well in the Gulf Stream, and down toward New Orleans, I tell you you'll just enjoy life. It'll be a nice trip for you, and I'm sure I'll do my best to make things comfortable for you."
"I'm sure you would, Captain, but it can't be done at the price."