“Come into the back store and take a smoke,” invited Jaques; and they followed him into an apartment which seemed to serve as warehouse, general living room, and kitchen. A young woman was busy at the stove, and after looking up with a smile of welcome she went on with her cooking; but Jimmy felt that she had given him and his comrades a keen scrutiny.
Jaques brought them chairs and laid a few cigars on the table.
“Now,” he said to Bethune, “you can go ahead.”
“First of all, I want your promise to keep what I tell you to yourself.” Bethune glanced quietly toward the woman.
“You have it, and you can trust Mrs. Jaques. Susie does all her talking at home; and there’s a good deal of her own money in this store. That’s why I brought you in. I allow she’s sometimes a better judge than I am.”
Bethune bowed to Mrs. Jaques; and then, to Jimmy’s surprise, he began a frank account of their financial difficulties and their salvage plans. When it came to their doings at the wreck, he made a rather moving tale of it, and Mrs. Jaques listened with her eyes fixed on the speaker and a greasy fork poised in her hand. Jimmy wondered whether Bethune was acting quite judiciously in telling so much. The storekeeper leaned an elbow on the table, his brows knitted as if in thought; and Moran sat still with an expressionless brown face. Except for Bethune’s voice it was very quiet in the small, rudely furnished room, and Jimmy surmised that the projected deal was of some importance to its occupants. It was certainly of consequence to his own party, for they could not continue operations without supplies.
“There’s a bond on your boat already,” Jaques objected, when Bethune paused.
“For about half her value. We could demand a public sale if she were seized, and the balance would clear your debt.”
“It’s hard to get full price for a vessel that’s too small for a regular trade. You allowed you bought her cheap?”
“We did,” Bethune carelessly answered. “Still, one has to take a risk.”