“Could you tow us in?” he asked as if the question were distasteful. His aversion to the uncouth, but amiable river man was too obvious to escape Skippy’s sensitive eyes.
If Tully was aware of it too, he did not betray it. His face looked grave and thoughtful.
“Trouble is I’m due at the Hook,” he said hesitantly. “Have an all day’s job towin’ a barge. I’m late as ’tis. And if I ain’t there in twinty minutes I lose the job, so I do. ’Tis the first good payin’ job I’ve had in a long....”
Crosley waved his hand in entreaty.
“We’ll see that you’re paid for the loss of your day’s job, man. How much would you get for it, eh?”
Tully moved his large head and shrugged his powerful shoulders. “Seventy-five bucks is what they’re goin’ to pay me,” he said modestly.
Crosley gasped audibly.
“That’s a lot of money, but....”
“It’s a hold up!” snapped Skinner between his tightly drawn lips.
“Sure and it’s what they’re payin’ me, boss,” said Big Joe with a look of hurt pride. “I ain’t askin’ ye’ for a cent, I’m not considerin’ I may lose my customer for future jobs. ’Tis not only I’m losin’ that seventy-five bucks, ’tis....”