“Absolutely.”
“Well, I’m sorry. Excuse me a moment,” said Sevier, getting up hastily. He went out of the dining-room, but returned almost immediately. “I just then caught sight of a man I wanted to speak to,” he explained. “Then I can’t induce you to go shares with us?”
“I’m afraid not, thank you,” replied Elliott
“It’s a fair race for a million, then, and let the best man win! But it seems a fool business for us to cut one another’s throats. We’ve made you the best proposals we can, but we feel that we have prior rights on that cargo, and we’ll fight for it if necessary.”
“We’ll try to meet you half-way,” said Elliott carelessly. “And isn’t it absurd to talk of prior rights when the whole thing is little better than a steal?”
“A steal? Not a bit of it. The ship is sunk outside the three-mile limit in neutral seas. It’s treasure-trove.”
“I’ve been trying to look at it that way myself,” replied Elliott. “But I fancy some government or other would claim it if they heard of it It’s war, then, is it?”
“That’ll come soon enough. Let’s have peace while we can,” Sevier responded, poking at the roast beef, which lay a tepid and soggy mass on his plate. “I must apologize to my guest. I’ve spoiled your dinner for you. It’s stone cold—or as near it as anything ever gets in this country. Let me order some more.”
“No—don’t!” said Elliott, sickening at the thought of food in that reeking atmosphere. “It’s too hot and wet to eat. This climate is getting too much for me.”
“Thinking of trying Africa? Look here, you come around to my place, and I’ll mix you a cold drink, anyway. I found a plant the other day that tastes like mint, and I’ll give you as close an imitation of a Baltimore julep as can be had in China.”