"But the beads!"
"Either he dropped them in the gutter, or they repose on the floor of a
Chinese shop in Woosung Road. I'll be there bright and early--never you
fear. Don't know what got into Morrissy. Of course I'll look him up in the
morning."
"Thousands of miles--to hear a yarn like this!"
"Cleigh, we've done business for nearly twenty years. You can't point out
an instance where I ever broke my word."
"I know," grumbled Cleigh. "But I've gone to all this trouble, getting a
crew and all that. And now you tell me you've let the beads slip through
your fingers!"
"Pshaw! You'd have put the yacht into commission if you'd never heard from
me. You were crazy to get to sea again. Any trouble picking up the crew?"
"No. But only four of the old crew--Captain Newton, of course, and Chief
Engineer Svenson, Donaldson, and Morley. Still, it's the best crew I ever
had: young fellows off warships and transports, looking for comfortable
berths and a little adventure that won't entail hunting periscopes."
"Plenty of coal?"
"Trust me for that. Four hundred tons in Manila, and I shan't need more
than a bucketful."
"Who drew the plans for this yacht?" asked Cunningham, with a roving
glance.
"I did."
"Humph! Why didn't you leave the job to someone who knew how? It's a
series of labyrinths on this deck."
"I wanted a big main salon, even if I had to sacrifice some of the rest of
the space. Besides, it keeps the crew out of sight."
"And I should say out of touch, too."
"I'm quite satisfied," replied Cleigh, grumpily.
"Cleigh, I'm through." Cunningham spread his hands.
"What are you through with?"
"Through with this game. I'm going in for a little sport. This string of
beads was the wind-up. But don't worry. They'll be on board here
to-morrow. You brought the gold?"
"Yes."
The visitor paused in front of the rug. He sighed audibly.
"Scheherazade's twinkling little feet! Lord, but that rug is a wonder!
Cleigh, I've been offered eighty thousand for it."
"What's that?" Cleigh barked, half out of his chair.
"Eighty thousand by Eisenfeldt. I don't know what crazy fool he's dealing
for, but he offers me eighty thousand."
Cleigh got up and pressed a wall button. Presently a man stepped into the
salon from the starboard passage. He was lank, with a lean, wind-bitten
face and a hard blue eye.