With an appearance of great reluctance, Captain Calamity reseated himself and took another big, rank cigar from the box on the table.
"Go ahead," he said laconically as he lit the poisonous weed.
"Vat I propose," began Mr. Solomon, "is that you give me a bond...."
He continued for over half an hour to state his conditions, Calamity never once interrupting him. When he had got through the Captain threw the stump of his third cigar out of the window and drew his chair closer to the table.
"Now you've used up your steam, and, I hope, feel better, we'll talk business," he said in a cool, determined voice.
Two hours elapsed before Captain Calamity rose to his feet and prepared for departure. It had been a tremendous battle, for Mr. Solomon's demands had continued to be outrageous and he had resisted every reduction tooth and nail. But they had at last come to an agreement, though, even so, each felt that he was conceding far too much to the other. The main points were, that Isaac Solomon was to procure a ship and fit her out; that the profits of each privateering expedition were to be divided into four equal shares, of which the partners each took one. The remaining two shares were to be used for refitting, victualling, bonuses for the crew, wages, and so forth. Mr. Solomon's connection with the venture was to be kept secret from every one but his partner, for, with a modesty that had its root in wisdom, the ship-chandler avoided publicity as much as possible.
"I suppose you're going to wet the contract?" remarked Calamity as he picked up his hat.
Mr. Solomon affected not to understand.
"Vet it?" he inquired innocently.
"Yes, drink to the prosperity of the venture, partner."