“Of course I do.”
“Then, for the love of Pete, wotcha doin’ walloping off’n her like a sack of potatoes?”
“I slipped. I was pushed or something.” Sam sprang to his feet and looked wildly about him. “I must get back. Isn’t there any way of getting back?”
“Well, you could ketch up with her at quarantine out in the bay. She’ll stop to let the pilot off.”
“Can you take me to quarantine?”
The girl glanced doubtfully at the seat of the nearest pair of trousers.
“Well, we could,” she said. “But pa’s kind of set in his ways, and right now he’s fishing for dollar bills with the boat hook. He’s apt to get sorta mad if he’s interrupted.”
“I’ll give him fifty dollars if he’ll put me on board.”
“Got it on you?” inquired the nymph coyly. She had her share of sentiment, but she was her father’s daughter and inherited from him the business sense.
“Here it is.” He pulled out his pocket book. The book was dripping, but the contents were only fairly moist.