"You offered to give me Sallie, if I paid you a hundred thousand dollars," said Slyne, judicially.
"To see you safely married to her," Captain Dove corrected him.
Slyne nodded, in grave assent.
"Well, I'm going to hold you to your offer," said he. "The money's ready and waiting for you—just as soon as we can settle a few trifling formalities. I have Sallie's promise to marry me—"
"The devil you have!" said Captain Dove, not slow to seize opportunity either. "I thought I heard her say—"
Slyne's face darkened again. "And, if you'll come ashore with me now," he went on, controlling his temper, "I'll prove to you that your money is perfectly safe."
Captain Dove lay back in his bunk and laughed, most discordantly. He laughed till his red-rimmed eyes were adrip, while Slyne sat looking at him. He was still laughing when Slyne rose and, flicking the cigarette-end from between two nicotine-stained fingers, began to button his coat. He stopped laughing then, by calculated degrees.
"Sit down—sit down!" said he wheezily. "What's your hurry? You haven't told me yet what those few 'trifling formalities' are. And how am I to know whether—"
But Slyne was already beyond the doorway, fumbling with a last button.
"If you believe I've come here to talk simply for the sake of talking," said he with sombre magnificence, "I needn't waste any more breath on you. Good-bye."