“And now?” There was a strange look on the man’s face.
“Now I want you to sign a contract to handle their fruit, a five year contract.”
“Make it ten!” exclaimed the rich man, springing to his feet. “Have the purser write it up and bring it to me at once. I’ll sign it.”
“And by the way,” he said as Johnny prepared to go, “have Captain Jorgensen come down when he finds time. This is a pretty good old ship, a mighty good one. I want her in my service. Give his owners a two years’ contract. Or, I’ll buy her straight out. She’s the ship that saved my life. Along with two stubborn old men and a boy, she did it. You don’t meet a combination like that every day.”
The Unwilling Guest put out a hand to grip the boy’s own.
CHAPTER XXIII
TREASURE AT LAST
With the aid of a flashlight Pant and Kirk were exploring a vast warehouse filled with sacks of chicle. They arrived in their taxi and having been admitted, had been told in a general way where they would find the last cargo that had arrived.
“Here! Here it is!” exclaimed Pant at last. “I can recognize the weave of my grandfather’s sacks.”
“Perhaps,” he said after a considerable search for his particular sack, “the thread has been accidentally drawn out and lost.”
“If it has,” panted Kirk, “we’ll open up every one. We—”