We might as well forget the past and put this thing through as
per program. Only I saw visions of a schooner all my own,
Scraggsy, and--well, what's the use? What's the use? Scraggsy,
you're a natural-born mar-plot. Always buttin' in, buttin' in,
buttin' in, fit for nothin' but the green-pea trade. However, I
guess I can turn into my old berth and get some sleep. Put the
old girl under a slow bell and save your coal. We'll have to fool
away four or five hours in San Diego anyhow and there ain't no
sense in crowdin' the old hulk."
"Gib," said Captain Scraggs, "was that really your lay--to steal
the cargo, double-cross the insurrecto junta, and sell out to a
furrin' country?"
"Of course it was," said Mr. Gibney pettishly. "They all do such
things in the banana republics. Why should I be an exception?
There's half a dozen different gangs fightin' each other and the
government in Mexico, and if I don't deliver these arms, just see
all the lives I'll be savin'. And after I got the cargo into
Colombia and sold it, I could have peached on the rebels there,
and got a reward for it, and saved a lot more lives, and come
away rich and respected."
"By the Lord Harry," said Captain Scraggs, "but you've got an
imagination, Gib.
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