"If there ain't Swiss cheese movements in that head block o' yours,
Mac, you an Scraggsy can divide my share o' these two boxes o'
ginseng root between you. Do you get it, you chuckleheaded son of an
Irish potato? Gin Seng, 714 Dupont Street. Ginseng--a root or a herb
that medicine is made out of. The dictionary says it's a Chinese
panacea for exhaustion, an' I happen to know that it's worth five
dollars a pound an' that them two crates weighs a hundred and fifty
pounds each if they weighs an ounce."
His auditors stared at Mr. Gibney much as might a pair of
baseball fans at the hero of a home run with two strikes and the
bases full.
"Gawd!" muttered McGuffey.
"Great grief, Gib! Can this be possible?" gasped Captain Scraggs.
For answer, Mr. Gibney took out his fifty-dollar bill and handed
it to--to McGuffey. He never trusted Captain Scraggs with
anything more valuable than a pipeful of tobacco.
"Scraggsy," he said solemnly, "I'm willin' to back my imagination
with my cash. You an' McGuffey hurry right over to the warehouse
an' butt in on the sale when they come to them two boxes. The
sale is just about startin' now. Go as high as you think you can
in order to get the ginseng at a profitable figger, an' pay the
auctioneer fifty dollars down to hold the sale; that will give
you boys time to rush around to dig up the balance o' the money.
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