“If it's about the schooner, I'd rather do business with men-folks,” he said.
“This is business that only you and I can do, and it must be a secret between us. Will you please glance at this bank-book?”
He licked a thin finger and turned the leaves.
“Deposit of five thousand dollars and accrued interest,” he observed, resuming his inquisitive inspection of her animated countenance.
“My mother's sister left me that legacy. It's all my little fortune, sir. I want to loan that money to my father and Captain Mayo.”
“Well, go ahead, if you're fool enough to. I ain't your guardeen,” assented Deacon Rowley, holding the book out to her. “But I advise you to keep your money. I know all about their foolishness.”
“My father wouldn't take it from me—and Captain Mayo wouldn't, either.”
“That shows they ain't rogues on top of being fools.”
“But I have faith that they can succeed and make a lot of money if they get a start,” she insisted. “I see you do not understand, sir, what I need of you. I want you to lend them that money, just as if it came from you. I'll give you the book and a writing, and you can draw it.”
“No, ma'am.”