"Wall, Cap., I reckon ye don't want t' stay here all day. Wind's easterly inside, an' there ain't none too much water on th' bar. Ye'd better give us yer hawser 'n let's git right along."
"Oh! no hurry, Capt'in; there's no hurry. What's a day here or there when ye'r well over the hundreds? I can lay up to th' pilot ground on th' next tack.... Ye'll be wantin' a big figure from here, an' my owners won't stand a long pull."
"Only six hundred, Cap., only six hundred, with your hawser."
The Old Man started back in amazement.
"Six hundred dollars, Capt'in. Did you say six hundred? Holy smoke! I don't want t' buy yer boat, Capt'in.... Six hundred—well, I'm damned. Loose them royals, Mister! Six hundred, no damn fear!"
Quickly we put the royals on her, though they were little use, the wind having fallen very light. The tow-boat sheered off a bit, and her skipper watched us sheeting-home, as if it were a most interesting and uncommon sight.
He gave his wheel a spoke or two and came alongside again.
"All right, Cap. Give us yer hawser 'n I'll dock ye for five-fifty!"
The Old Man paid no attention to his request, but paced fore and aft the weather side, gazing occasionally at the lazy royals, then fixing the man at the wheel with a reproachful eye. At last he turned to leeward with a surprised expression, as if astonished to find the tow-boat still there.
"Come, Cap.! Strike it right naow! What d'ye offer? Mind the wind, as there is ov it, is due east in the Strait."