"No, Purser, I'm not going to give away anything just now. I want five shillings spot cash for this specimen, and it's dirt cheap at that. When you've weathered it a bit, and given it a dressing of good yellow palm oil, it will fetch a golden sovereign from a Las Palmas tripper, easy."
"They're a hard-up lot, the people who come to the Islands these days, and they're inclined to get too familiar if you offer as a favor to sell them anything they may see in your room. I've chucked showing them things. But I might get three half-crowns for that bowl in Liverpool. Of course, I don't want any commission from you, old fellow. I'll hand over every penny I'm paid for it."
Carter stuck out a dogged chin. "Look here, Purser, it's too hot for frills, and we know one another a bit too well for them to go down. Potter out five bob and the thing's yours to make what you can of. If you don't, I've another customer who'll give more. I'm hard up."
"Oh, of course, yes. You want to set up housekeeping, don't you? Well, old fellow, here are the two half-crowns towards the mangle or the grand piano or whatever you've set your mind on getting first. Sorry I ragged you about being engaged to Laura last night at Smooth River. But, you see, I know Owe-it Slade, and I've known Laura all her life, and of course I was a bit surprised to be told, you know—well, to be told that you, of all people, had made it up with her. But, as I say, I'm sorry I ragged you."
"Please don't apologize on a hot day like this," Carter snapped. "As I don't value your opinion on a matter like that one jot, I naturally didn't let anything you said disturb my sleep. Good-afternoon. If you're going to occupy your room, I'll go out on deck and enjoy the infernal crushed-marigold stink of this drain from a different point."
"That young man knows he's made a fool of himself," commented the Purser sagely, "and he's as sore and uneasy as a skinned eel in a tub of sand. Well, if he wants to furnish a lil' log hut for his dusky Laura, so much the better for trade. He's the neatest trick of making native curios in all West Africa, and I've got all his home business in my hand. It's all rot about his trading with another purser; there isn't one on the Coast that works this line, or I should have heard about it. If the output's increased, I shall try and work up a connection with America. My Whiskers! why not? What's wrong with enriching the United States with some good broad-bladed Okky spears, and a war horn or two just as a— Hullo, yes, who's that? Ah, come in."
There was a knock at the Purser's door, and White-Man's-Trouble entered in reply to the invitation. "Oh, Purser," he said, "dem bug," and opened a black fist and showed three electric-blue butterflies in his white palm.
The Purser took them one by one in his plump fingers and dropped them gingerly into an empty cardboard cigarette box. "I don't think they'll be much use, boy. You've rubbed too much fluff off with those delicate paws of yours. Savvy?"
"I savvy I fit for dash," said the Krooboy pointedly.
"Pooh, these are worth nothing. What do you take me for? A tripper, or the Bank of England? Ah, would you, you infernal thieving monkey?" Mr. Balgarnie had turned his back and had glanced in a shaving mirror which hung by the port and saw White-Man's-Trouble helping himself to a Tauchnitz novel, which he promptly tucked underneath his coat.