“Sh! Don’t speak so loud,” whispered Captain Frazier, for it was he. “But you couldn’t do harm to this craft now, for she is engaged in honest business.”
“No private ventures stowed away among her cargo?” said Jack.
“Nary venture. There’s no need of it, for I make money hand over fist in an honest way. I am a cotton trader. Got a permit and everything all square. And cotton will be worth a dollar a pound by the time I get back to New York.”
“What do you pay for it here?”
“That depends on the man I am dealing with. If he is a Union man I give him from seven to ten cents in greenbacks, which will buy eighty per cent. more stuff than Confederate scrip. If he is a good rebel, or if he is surrounded by rebel neighbors who are keeping an eye on his movements, I give him ten cents in rebel money.”
“Where do you get rebel money?” asked Jack.
“Anywhere—everywhere. I can get all I want for thirty cents on a dollar, and have bought some as low as twenty. It will be lower than that in less than a month. But, mind you, no one around here knows that I have been a blockade runner. And I am not at the head of this business. My Boston owners are doing it all and I am simply their agent. But are you really aground?”
“I never told a straighter story in my life,” answered Jack, who went on to describe how he happened to be in that condition. When his hasty narrative was finished Captain Frazier said:
“There’s always room aboard my schooner for such a sailorman as I know you to be, and if you want to sign with me as my chief officer I shall be glad to have you. And you must let me advance you money enough to provide for your immediate wants.”
When Jack reached this part of his story Rodney knew where that blue suit came from.