The visitor arrived and looked over the fruits of the season’s work. He did not seem at all dazzled by the beauty of the big pearl. He examined it casually and laid it aside. He seemed more interested in the others.
“You be careful an’ don’t show no frenzy over that jool. You don’t own it,” cautioned Sipes, sarcastically. “You may want to buy it later if you ain’t got enough cash-money now. Mebbe you know o’ some rich fellers that ’ud like to buy intrusts in it with you.”
A substantial offer was made for the lot. The amount mentioned was much larger than I had any idea the pearls were worth.
“They was a feller ’long ’ere yisterd’y that offered us twice as much as that, an’ I told ’im ’e was a cheap skate. Wot d’ye think them are—peanuts? D’ye think we c’lected all them val’able jools jest fer love o’ you? Wot d’ye s’pose we are—helpless orphants?”
Most of the day was spent in jockeying over the price. The buyer was an expert judge of human nature, as well as pearls. He exhibited a large roll of bills at a psychological moment, and became the owner of the collection.
He drove away along the beach and turned into the dunes.
“He’ll prob’ly hide some’r’s off’n the woods, an’ peel some o’ them jools, like ’e did us,” said Sipes. “He oughta fly a black flag over that buggy, so people ’ud know wot’s comin’. I’ve seen piruts in furrin waters that was all bloodied up, but ’side o’ that robber, they’d look like a lot o’ funny kids. Bill, you oughta keep yer mouth shut w’en I’m sell’n’ jools! You butted in all the time an’ spoilt wot I was doin’. If you’d a kep’ still, I’d ’a’ got jest twice them figgers. By rights, I oughta keep wot’s ’ere fer my half an’ let you w’istle fer the half that that feller saved by you shoot’n’ off yer mouth at the wrong times.”
That night I sat before the dying embers of driftwood and mused over the eventful weeks.
I remembered the picturesque camp scenes; the genial gatherings around the fire; the advent of Narcissus,—his lovable qualities, frailties, and final vindication; the sociability of Spotty; the Ancient’s graphic reminiscences; the finding of the big pearl, and the odd combination of childish foibles, homely wit, kindliness, cupidity, shrewdness, and primitive savagery in the old shipmates.
The mingled glories of the autumn came back, with memories of the fragrant woods; the broad sweeps of changing color over the swamp-land; the majesty of the onward marching storms; the songs of the wind through trees and bending grasses; the music and beauty of rippling currents; the companionship and voices of the wild things; the witchery of twilight mists and purple shadows, and the enchantment of moon-silvered vistas.