Little Cherry Blossom cleared her—or the medium's—throat and falteringly went on.
“Julia sayee 'Jethro, you sell R. P. what you got.' Sellee him what you got, what he want buyee. You know. You sellee R. P. the stock.”
But still it was clear that Captain Jeth did not understand.
“Sell R. P.?” he repeated. “R. P. Who's R. P.? And what... Eh? Do you mean—”
He paused. When he next spoke his tone was quite different. There was a deeper note in it, almost a note of menace.
“R. P.?” he said again. “Does 'R. P.' mean—is that supposed to stand for Horatio Pulcifer? Eh? Does 'R. P.' mean Raish Pulcifer?”
The control did not reply instantly. The light keeper pressed his question.
“Does it?” he demanded.
“Yes... yes,” stammered the Blossom. “Yes, Julia say sellee Raish what he wantee buy.”
“Wantee BUY? What have I got he wants to buy?”