"So far, yes," said Smart, "but the railroad won't carry them under three hundred dollars, and won't give any guarantee that they'll be delivered on time; won't insure them—in fact, won't do anything but carry them at an exorbitant rate, and they say they must have the goods within one week from the eighth of this month, or upon the fifteenth. Otherwise they won't fill the order, they don't want them. It's now the tenth—that's the rub. How are we going to make good? Shall we trust to the railroad? It never does what it agrees to, and in this case we look like bad ones. That's what's worrying me. What do you say? You're half-partner—it's up to you, Bill."
The big black mate sat looking at the shore for some minutes. His ugly face was wrinkled and his rheumy eyes were puckered in thought, his huge shoulders hunching up, and giving him the air of one who has struck a problem too great to solve. Finally he spoke.
"Jule will be along on the morning boat," said he solemnly.
"Who is Jule?" asked Smart.
"Jule? Why, I thought you knew, cap—why, Jule is my wife. 'Fightin' Jule' deys calls her, an' I reckon dat's a good name. She got dat letter you wrote, and de money I sent from de diving at de gold plant. She dun heard ob dat gold plant, an' she's comin' on up. She'll be here in about an hour."
"You think she can give us good advice—is that it?" suggested Smart, eying the big mate keenly.
"Er—er—dat ain't exactly what I was thinkin'—no, sah, cap," said Bahama Bill, with a sickly grin.
"I'm not a mind-reader, Bill," said Smart.
"Well, sah, cap—seein' as it's you, well, sah—er—er—well, I don't know but what we better make de run toe Noo York ourselves. Or else back toe Key West, an' ketch de Noo York steamer. She kin make de run in three days; dat'll do de trick, hey?"