Walter began a rapid mental calculation. "Those houses are worth all of twenty-five hundred apiece," he declared, glancing at Charley.
"More," Charley assented positively.
"Wuth more for firewood," added Bill.
"Houses and all; all or none. How much for the hull blamed cargo?" the stranger again demanded, getting up to expectorate in a corner.
"Lumber is lumber," observed Charley, wrinkling his forehead in deep thought.
"Do I ask you to give it away? Name your figure," the would-be purchaser insisted. "Come up to the scratch. I've no time to waste here palavering. What do you take me for?" he added angrily.
Walter again had recourse to his mental arithmetic. "Six times two fifty, fifteen; lump the rest at ten; freight money five, storage five more, insurance five. Forty thousand dollars!" he exclaimed desperately at a venture, feeling the cold sweat oozing out all over him.
"It's mine. I'll take it," said the stranger, coolly suiting the action to the word by dragging out of his coat pockets first one chuggy bag of gold dust and then another, which he placed before Walter on the table. "Here's something to bind the bargain." Then, seeing Bill critically examining a pinch of the dull yellow grains in the palm of his hand, he added: "Oh! never fear! That's the real stuff. You get the rest when that lumber's delivered alongside Sacramento levee at my expense. Talk fast. Is it a whack?"
"Hold on, stranger," cried the acute Charley, pushing back the gold. "We don't agree to no such thing, mister. We deliver it right here from the ship."
The stranger smote the table with his clenched fist. "Can't waste no time loading and unloading," he declared; "that's half the battle. I must have this cargo ahead of everybody, up river. You say it's all loaded. That's why I pay high for it. I don't care shucks how you get it there; so fix it somehow; for it's make or break with me this time. Sabe?"