"Seventy-five dollars."
"It's a good deal."
"How long would you get if you got took?" asked Jacob, significantly.
"You're right. It's worth the money. But I can't pay you now, Jacob."
"You won't forget it," said the old man, composedly, for he expected this, since Marlowe's attempt at burglary had been unsuccessful. "You'll pay me when you can."
"Shiver my timbers, messmate, but I will!"
"Good!" said the old man. "You're getting it."
"I don't think those landlubbers—the cops—will know me in this rig-out."
"Better. You'll do."
"Well, Jacob, I'll pay you as soon as I can. By the way, haven't you any place where you can stow me for the night? It won't do for me to go back to Jack's room; it's too hot for me."