"You could take it all out of the first pay check," Woody persisted.
"Her cylinders have been bored so many times, her pistons will be slapping aroond in water before long."
"Worm, I just got to have the dough."
"Hoot, laddie. What's all your concern aboot money? Ye'll only be spending it. When I served my apprenticeship in Aberdeen, I worked five years without getting a nickel."
Woody sighed. "O.K.," he said. "Forget it."
So easy a victory disturbed Worm. He felt that he had been perhaps something less than generous. He was sensitive about being considered tight with money (undoubtedly because this was the truth) and would tell anyone who was prepared to listen that the Highland Scots are the most generous people in the world. He was a Highland Scot.
"Ah weel," he said, "I recall as a laddie that it was hard to be walking around without a groat to comfort me fist with. How much do ye want?"
"Six or seven bucks," said Woody. He hoped for ten, but it was a desperate hope.
"Whist, mon," said Worm, a look between astonishment and outrage showing in his pale blue eyes. "Do ye think I'm the Bank of England? I'll let ye have two dollars to payday and not a penny more."
He went over to the cash box, opened it as if it were the main vault of Morgan's bank on Wall Street, and came back with a dollar bill and some silver in his hand. He gave Woody the dollar, solemnly pronouncing the word "One" and then counted out three quarters, two dimes, and a nickel.