This, then, must be Bill's consignment, for there was nothing else in the river or at the quay that John could see that could possibly have anything on board for Bill or his stores. As he stood there immersed in thought, a figure appeared on the deck above him, and, leaning his arms on the taffrail, regarded the scene below him with a gloomy air. 'The skipper,' thought John, as he noted his blue broadcloth and peaked cap, and on the spur of a sudden inspiration immediately accosted him. 'Fine morning, captain. I happen to have heard a rumour to the effect that you were wanting an offer for your cargo. If so, I might possibly get you an offer from a friend of mine--at a reasonable figure, of course.' 'Waal,' replied the other slowly, 'I guess I'm ready for a deal, as the consignees are bust up, and only 25 per cent. of the freight paid for; but it's not a knock-out, I tell ye, for I've had a bid already for the lot.' 'Was it from a man they call Bill Coody, by any chance?' asked John, with a fine carelessness. 'Waal,' replied the skipper, as he turned his quid, 'his name's nothin' to me, so long as he has the ready. Mr. Cash is the gent I do business with; but if my memory sarves me right, I think Bill Coody was the name on his pasteboard.' 'What precisely is the cargo?' queried John. 'Is it dry-store goods--organs, pianos, and such like commodities?' 'Ay, that's about what it is--all the sort o' fixin's that make a harmonious home for the retired commercial gent--organs, melodeons, brick-a-bacs, articles of virtoo and amusement combined; and a fine variety of wood goods besides. Waal, if you're for a deal you must be sharp about it, for I've to fix up with Mr. Coody by ten o'clock this mornin', and I leave again this afternoon, havin' just signed a fresh charter party for a cargo of fireclay bricks. So name your figure, plank down the cash, and I'm ready to deal.' 'Well, what did Mr. Coody offer you?' asked John pertinently. 'Three hundred pounds in bank notes,' replied the skipper; 'but I'll take £400 to clear; and dirt cheap, too, when you think o' what a nest o' nightingales your fam'ly and friends will be at ten dollars a head.' 'Thank you,' said John, as he moved away; 'I'll just go round and have a talk with my friend, and will let you know the result before ten o'clock.' 'Right,' replied the captain, cutting himself a fresh plug of tobacco; '£400 down, coin o' the realm, before ten, mind ye, and your friend's set up for life with a "house beautiful" that Solomon in all his glory and Mrs. Sheba couldn't have fixed up better between them.'