He went first to the Seaboard Drug Store, where he quizzed the druggist for five minutes, after which he continued his cruise. Upon reaching the Maggie, he proceeded to relate in detail, and with many additional details supplied by his own imagination, the story of his morning's adventure.
"Gib," said McGuffey enviously, "you're a fool for luck."
"Luck," said Mr. Gibney, beginning to expand, "is what the feller calls a relative proposition——"
"You're wrong, Gib," interposed Captain Scraggs. "Relatives is unlucky an' expensive. Take, f'r instance, Mrs. Scraggs's mother——"
"I mean, you lunkhead," said Mr. Gibney, "that luck is found where brains grow. No brains, no luck. No luck, no brains. Lemme illustrate. A thievin' land shark makes me a present o' fifty dollars not to butt in on them two boxes I'm tellin' you about. Him an' his gang wants them two boxes. Fair crazy to get 'em. Now, don't it stand to reason that them fellers knows what's in them boxes, or they wouldn't give me fifty dollars to haul ship? Of course it does. However, in order to earn that fifty dollars, I got to back water. It wouldn't be playin' fair if I didn't. But that don't prevent me from puttin' two dear friends o' mine (here Mr. Gibney encircled Scraggs and McGuffey with an arm each) next to the secret which I discovers, an' if there's money in it for old Hooky that buys me off, it stands to reason that there's money in it for us three. What's to prevent you an' McGuffey from goin' up to this old horse sale an' biddin' in them two boxes for the use and benefit of Gibney, Scraggs, an' McGuffey, all share an' share alike? You can bid as high as a hundred dollars if necessary, an' still come out a thousand dollars to the good. I'm tellin' you this because I know what's in them two boxes."
McGuffey was staring fascinated at Mr. Gibney. Captain Scraggs clutched his mate's arm in a frenzied clasp.
"What?" they both interrogated.
"You two boys," continued Mr. Gibney with aggravating deliberation, "ain't what nobody would call dummies. You're smart men. But the trouble with both o' you boys is you ain't got no imagination. Without imagination nobody gets nowhere, unless it's out th' small end o' th' horn. Maybe you boys ain't noticed it, but my imagination is all that keeps me from goin' to jail. Now, if you two had read the address on them two boxes, it wouldn't 'a' meant nothin' to you. Absolutely nothin'. But with me it's different. I'm blessed with imagination enough to see right through them Chinamen tricks. Them two boxes is marked "Oriental Goods" an' consigned (here Mr. Gibney raised a grimy forefinger, and Scraggs and McGuffey eyed it very much as if they expected it to go off at any moment)—"them two boxes is consigned to the Gin Seng Company, 714 Dupont Street, San Francisco."
"Well, that's up in Chinatown all right," admitted Captain Scraggs, "but how about what's inside the two crates?"
"Oriental goods, of course," said McGuffey. "They're consigned to a Chinaman, an' besides, that's what it says on the cases, don't it, Gib? Oriental goods, Scraggs, is silks an' satins, rice, chop suey, punk, an' idols an' fan tan layouts."