“I am empowered to make you an offer of twenty-seven hundred and fifty dollars each for the three!” Matt shot at him.
“Net? The three of them?” Cappy was all attention now; for selling schooners in lots of three was decidedly new and interesting.
“Hardly! Five per cent to me. Remember I'm a ship, freight and marine insurance broker, and I'm not working for my health. Why, I haven't even suggested any other vessels to my clients—and, by the way, they are not codfish people either. I knew you'd want to get rid of these little hookers, so I'm giving you first crack at the bargain.”
“Who wants them?” Cappy demanded craftily.
“If I told you that you'd do me the way you did that Seattle broker who tried to put through the charter of the Lion and the Unicorn. When you knew who his clients were you were in position to defy him—and you did!”
“No offense,” Cappy retorted innocently. “Don't be so touchy! Is this a cash proposition, Matt?”
“In the hand.”
“I accept.”
“Then give me a written option,” Matt warned him. “No more word-of-mouth business for me with you.”
Cappy laughed; and, calling in a stenographer, he dictated the option.