Mr. Curtin took the ship from the man’s outstretched hand and passed it over to Vicki. It was so unexpectedly heavy that she almost let it drop. She looked at it carefully. It gleamed with the rich luster of pure gold. More than ever, Vicki was convinced that her crazy notion was right.
“Please buy it, Mr. Curtin.”
“Fifty dollars,” Mr. Curtin said.
The Cuban shook his head. “Eighty-five.”
“Seventy-five,” Mr. Curtin said, “and that’s my last offer.”
The man shrugged. “You drive a hard bargain, señor.” He held out his hand. “Seventy-five.”
Mr. Curtin counted out the bills from his wallet and the man turned and disappeared into the shabby restaurant.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Curtin. I’ll give you a check as soon as we get back to the hotel.”
“Now, young lady,” Mr. Curtin said, “maybe you will explain what this is all about.”
“I’ll explain later, Mr. Curtin. Please trust me. But where can we go to find out if this really is solid gold?”