“Can’t.”
“I will, if he doesn’t ask too much. What’s the price, sailor? We’ll take them if it isn’t too high,” said Melvin.
The man named a sum that was greater than the combined capital of Gerald and Melvin. Then, although he wasn’t a purchaser himself, Jim tried his usual “dickering” and succeeded in lowering the price of the simians, “clever enough to talk English,” to ten dollars for the pair.
“All right! Here’s my fiver!” cried Gerald, reluctantly pulling out a last, dilapidated bill from a very flat pocket-book.
“And mine,” added Melvin, tendering his own part.
“Now, we must go, right away!” declared Jim, hastily rising.
He thought the sailor who had promptly pocketed the ten dollars of his friends was suspiciously kind, insisting upon carrying the cage of monkeys down to the “Stem,” and himself placing it securely in the bottom of the boat. The little animals kept up a chattering and showed their teeth, after a manner that might be as clever as their late owner claimed but certainly showed anger.
Indeed, they tore about their cage in such a fury of speed that it nearly fell overboard and in the haste of embarking everyone forgot the original object of this trip, till Jim exclaimed:
“Went a-fishin’ and caught monkeys! Won’t they laugh at us?”