Islands -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
"'I'll give ye two,' he said, ''n' pay yer half down.' 'Hev ye got it
with ye?' I sed. 'I hev,' he said, 'aboord the boat, or I'll give ye a
check.' 'Checks don't go here,' I said, 'but if ye've got real money,
'n' mean business, it's yourn at that figger.' Then he went off, 'n' I
was so sure I'd never set eyes on him ag'in I went ter sleep. It didn't
seem five minutes till he blew in ag'in. 'How many acres o' that ledge
do ye own,' he said, 'an' how many goes with the quarry?' 'Wall,' I
said, 'there's about a hundred, 'n' if that ain't nuff ter keep ye busy
blastin' the rest o' yer nateral life, I'll throw in the hull o' Norse
Hill jist ter bind the bargain,' fer I didn't no more s'pose he meant
bizniss than I s'posed I'd got wings. 'Wal,' he says, pullin' out a roll
o' bills bigger'n my arm. 'Here's the kale seed, an' when ye'll show me
what I'm buyin' 'n' a deed on't, it's yourn.'
"Wal, I jist pinched myself, ter see if I was 'wake, an' jumpin' off the
counter, fished a deed out o' my safe 'n' took it 'long, an' showed him
round the ledge, believin' all the time when he'd seen it, he'd tell me
ter go soak my head, er suthin' o' that sort. But he didn't, an' arter I
got hold o' the money 'n' counted it, wonderin' if it wasn't all bogus,
'n' give him a receipt, 'n' he'd gone off, I went 'n' stuck a pin into
my leg, jist ter be sure I was awake, after all. That was a week ago,"
continued Jess, lighting one of the cigars he had set forth, "but I
didn't say nuthin' 'bout it till I'd gone ashore with the money an' the
bank folks hed said it was all right, 'n' now I think I've lost jist a
thousand dollars by not askin' four for't. Why, the loonytic acted as
though he owned a printin' press that made money, an' was goin' all the
time."
"Wish I'd been ashore," observed Captain Moore, who was one of the
group, "I'd a tackled him ter buy the _Nancy Jane_. She's been lyin'
inside o' the harbor, half full o' bilge water, fer more'n a year, an'
ain't wuth scuttlin'. Ye'd orter 'a thought on't, Jess, an' persuaded
him he could 'a used 'r to carry stun in."
"An' if I'd a-knowed it," put in Cap'n Jet Doty, another of the group,
"I'd a tried him on 'bout a hundred kit o' mackerel we've got that's a
trifful rusty. He cud a-used 'em somehow. Ye'd orter think o' yer
neighbors, Jess, in such a case, an' let 'em in on't."
"I dunno but ye're right," responded Jess; "but I wus caught nappin',
'n' I cac'late that if any o' ye hed been woke up by sech a lubber with
gray whiskers, like stun'sls, an' dude cloes like these jackdaw yachters
wear, an offerin' ye two thousand dollars fer what ye'd sell fer fifty,
an' no takers, ye'd a-bin sot back, so ter speak. If I'd a hed time ter
think an' knowed what an easy mark the cuss was, I'd a-laid ter sell him
the hull island 'n' divided it up all round."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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