"I know this old coffin
like I know the back o' my own hand. Why, she lives on coal!
Oh-h-h, Scraggsy, Scraggsy, poor old Scraggsy," he keened in a
high falsetto voice and subsided on a crate of celery, the while
he waved his legs in the air and affected to be overcome by his
merriment. Scraggs turned the colour of a ripe old Edam cheese,
while Mr. Gibney folded his hands and looked idiotic.
"Old Phineas P. Scraggs, the salvage expert!" McGuffey's falsetto
would have maddened a sheep. "He cast his bread upon the waters
and lo, it returned to him after many days--and made him sick.
O-h-h-h-h, Scraggsy--poor old Scraggsy! If he went divin' for
pearls in three feet o' water he'd bring up a clam shell. Oh,
dear, I'm goin' to die o' this, Gib."
"Don't, Bart. I'm goin' to have need o' your well-known ability
to help salvage this bark. Scraggs, you old sinner, has it dawned
on you that what this proposition needs to get it over is a dash
o' the Adelbert P. Gibney brand of imagination?"
The new navigating officer drew Captain Scraggs aside and
whispered in his ear: "Make it up with these Smart Alecks,
Scraggs. They got it on us, but if we can send you an' Halvorsen,
McGuffey and Gibney over to the bark, you can get some sail on
her an' what with the wind helpin' us along, the _Maggie_ can tow
her all right.
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