"We're so glad to hear it, Captain Jarrow," said Marjorie. "It will surely make the old man happy."
"Thank ye, ma'am. I want to kind o' apologize for jammin' myself in like this, but I'm a frank man."
Jarrow paused, and throwing one foot over a knee, stroked the seams of his new French shoes with the tips of his fingers.
"Of course," he resumed, "Captain Dinshaw and me, we're thick as three in a bed. Ask anybody in Manila if I ain't been doin' my best to go to his island. I've offered to take him to his island, time and time again, but he wouldn't hear it, 'cause he knew I was makin' money with the Nuestra—that's my schooner, the Nuestra Señora del Rosario—me and Peth, my mate, we own it with others. In the wreckin' business it's touch and go. You got to be on the spot, and there ain't been any too many wrecks out this way lately. Let me go away for a week or two on this island business, and I'd likely lose somethin' good. But with somebody to kind o' go in on the deal, I'd split even at sixty-five dollars a day. I'd be some out of pocket, if there wa'n't much gold there, but I look for findin' it in a big way. It's a open and shut proposition."
"It sounds interesting," said Locke, getting more puzzled as to why Jarrow should call on him to take him into his confidence regarding plans about Dinshaw's island.
"There's big money in it," said Jarrow.
"May I ask why you think so, Captain Jarrow?" inquired Trask.
Jarrow turned to Trask in surprise. The question was appallingly direct, and Trask's tone was crisp and business-like.
"I know it," said Jarrow, uncomfortably aware of being pinned down to definite information.
"But I don't understand why you should take the trouble to tell us about your proposed trip," said Locke.