“And for one hundred dollars you will surrender your passage and go back to the girl,” I demanded, “and swear never to leave her again, unless it is on her own island and among her own relations?”
“Oh, come off!” he exclaimed. “Ain’t you blooming well deserting her yourself?”
“If you are not careful I will punch your head,” I said.
“Don’t mind me, sir,” said the captain, significantly, turning an enormous back upon us.
“Is it business you’re talking, or fight?” inquired the Beautiful Man. “You sort of mix a feller up.”
“I tell you I’ll pay you one hundred dollars on those terms,” I said.
“Hand them along, then,” said Hinton. “I tyke you.”
Unbuckling the money-belt I wore round my waist, I called upon the captain to witness the proceedings, and counted out one hundred dollars in gold. Without a word the Beautiful Man resigned his order into my hands and tied up the money in the corner of a dirty handkerchief, looking at me the while with something almost like compunction.
“Would you mind accepting this red pearl?” he said, producing a trumpery pill of a thing that was worth perhaps a dollar. “You might value it for old syke’s syke.”
I was rather disarmed by this gift and took it with a smile, putting in another good word for Bo.