“O, the usual parties!” returned Loudon, “Capsicum and Co.”
A smile and a glance of intelligence went round the group; and perhaps Loudon gave voice to the general sentiment by remarking—
“Talk of good business! I know nothing better than a schooner, a competent captain, and a sound reliable reef.”
“Good business! There’s no such a thing!” said the Glasgow man. “Nobody makes anything but the missionaries—dash it!”
“I don’t know,” said another; “there’s a good deal in opium.”
“It’s a good job to strike a tabooed pearl-island—say, about the fourth year,” remarked a third, “skim the whole lagoon on the sly, and up stick and away before the French get wind of you.”
“A pig nokket of cold is good,” observed a German.
“There’s something in wrecks, too,” said Havens. “Look at that man in Honolulu, and the ship that went ashore on Waikiki Reef; it was blowing a kona, hard; and she began to break up as soon as she touched. Lloyd’s agent had her sold inside an hour; and before dark, when she went to pieces in earnest, the man that bought her had feathered his nest. Three more hours of daylight, and he might have retired from business. As it was, he built a house on Beretania Street, and called it after the ship.”
“Yes, there’s something in wrecks sometimes,” said the Glasgow voice; “but not often.”
“As a general rule, there’s deuced little in anything,” said Havens.