"Anybody is liable to get that way, my jolly old roysterer," he said.
"Speakin' for myself, drink has no effect upon me--due to my jolly old
nerves of iron an' all that sort of thing."
"I'm ashamed of myself," said Fred.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, my poor old toper," said Bones honestly in
error. "Why, I remember once----"
"As a business man, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred bravely, "can you forgive
sentiment?"
"Sentiment! Why, you silly old josser, I'm all sentiment, dear old
thing! Why, I simply cry myself to sleep over dear old Charles
What's-his-name's books!"
"It's sentiment," said Fred brokenly. "I just can't--I simply can't
part with those two ships I sold you."
"Hey?" said Bones.
"They were your uncle's, but they have an association for me and my
brother which it would be--er--profane to mention. Mr. Tibbetts, let
us cry off our bargain."
Bones sniffed and rubbed his nose.
"Business, dear old Fred," he said gently. "Bear up an' play the man,
as dear old Francis Drake said when they stopped him playin' cricket.
Business, old friend. I'd like to oblige you, but----"
He shook his head rapidly Mr. Fred slowly produced his cheque-book and laid it on the desk with
the sigh of one who was about to indite his last wishes.
"You shall not be the loser," he said, with a catch in his voice, for
he was genuinely grieved. "I must pay for my weakness. What is five
hundred pounds?"
"What is a thousand, if it comes to that, Freddy?" said Bones.
"Gracious goodness, I shall be awfully disappointed if you back out--I
shall be so vexed, really."
"Seven hundred and fifty?" asked Fred, with pleading in his eye.
"Make it a thousand, dear old Fred," said Bones; "I can't add up
fifties."
So "in consideration" (as Fred wrote rapidly and Bones signed more
rapidly) "of the sum of one thousand pounds (say £1,000), the contract
as between &c., &c.," was cancelled, and Fred became again the
practical man of affairs.
"Dear old Fred," said Bones, folding the cheque and sticking it in his
pocket, "I'm goin' to own up--frankness is a vice with me--that I don't
understand much about the shippin' business. But tell me, my jolly old
merchant, why do fellers sell you ships in the mornin' an' buy 'em back
in the afternoon?"
"Business, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, smiling, "just big business."
Bones sucked an inky finger.
"Dinky business for me, dear old thing," he said. "I've got a thousand
from you an' a thousand from the other Johnny who sold me two ships.
Bless my life an' soul----"
"The other fellow," said Fred faintly--"a fellow from the United
Merchant Shippers?"
"That was the dear lad," said Bones.
"And has he cried off his bargain, too?"