"An accurate map—"
"Can it, old sport! A accurate map is all right when it's pasted over the front of your head for a face. But I wear the other kind of map inside me conk. Get me?"
"I confess that I do not."
"Well, get this, then. It's a cash deal. If the goods is up to sample you hand me mine then an' there. I don't deliver no goods f.o.b. I shows 'em to you. After you have saw them it's up to you to round 'em up. That's all, as they say when our great President pulls a gun. There ain't goin' to be no shootin'; walk out quietly, ladies!"
After I had sat there for fully ten minutes staring at him I came to the only logical conclusion possible to a scientific mind.
I said: "You are, admittedly, unlettered; you are confessedly a chevalier of industry; personally you are exceedingly distasteful to me. But it is useless to deny that you are the most extraordinary man I ever saw.... How soon can you take me to these Coquina hills?"
"Gimme twenty-four hours to—fix things," he said gaily.
"Is that all?"
"It's plenty, I guess. An'—say!"
"What?"