“I wouldn’t mind investing my capital in a sand-bank if I thought I could sell the sand and make a profit,” put in Dick.
“Perhaps you would make a good speculator,” said the captain, thoughtfully.
“Perhaps I would; but I’ve never tried my hand at it.”
“A successful speculator should, first of all, have brains, and then money,” said Captain Beasley, punctuating each point in the air with the stem of his briar pipe. “I judge you have the brains——”
“So have I,” interrupted Joe, with some animation.
“It was a rather poor speculation you entered into with Nathan Boggs, wasn’t it?” and the skipper turned to Joe.
“I don’t call that a speculation; that was a dead skin,” cried Fletcher stoutly.
“Well, you made an agreement with him to forfeit your wages if you quit work before the end of your term of service; you put yourself at a great disadvantage with such a man. It was to his interest to make you quit beforehand if he could.”
“If I hadn’t quit I guess I’d been carried away in a box, so I’d have lost anyway.”
“Well, you speculated on the chance of holding out, and came in for the short end of the deal.”