“Nothing, up to now. Cashed in with the underwriters and are probably using the money to play checkers with on Wall Street. Maybe they're using her for a horrible example till they scare the rest of the independents into the combination.”
“Have the underwriters sold?”
“Yes. She has been bid in—probably by some tinder-strapper of the big pirates. It's a wonder they let you get hold of this one.”
“They thought she was spoken for. When they found that she wasn't, they sent Burkett out here to blow her up.”
Captain Wass was not astonished by that information.
“Probably! All the talk which has been circulated says that you were junking her. I didn't have any idea you were trying to save her.”
“We have been blocked by some busy talkers,” admitted the young man.
“It's too bad the other folks can't do some talking and have the facts to back 'em up, son. Do you know what could be done if that syndicate could be busted? The old Vose crowd would probably hitch up with the Bee line folks. The Bee-liners are discouraged, but they haven't let go their charter. You wouldn't have to worry, then, about getting your money to finish this job, and you'd have a blamed quick market for this steamer as soon as she was off this reef.”
The bulging packet seemed to press against Mayo's ribs, insistently hinting at its power to help.
“I am going back and have a talk with old man Vose about this steamer,” said Captain Wass. “Now, son, a last word. I don't want to pry into any delicate matters. But I sort of smell a rat in those papers in your pocket. When she took 'em out of her muff all I could smell was violet. Do you think you've got anything about you that would help me—help us—help yourself?”