"Well, what's up?" he inquired, condescendingly. "Nothing wrong with Caro or Steve, I hope.""No, they're fust-rate, thank you."
"What's doing, then? Is it pleasure or business?""Well, a little of both, maybe. It's always a pleasure to see you, of course; and I have got a little mite of business on hand."Malcolm smiled, in his languid fashion. If he suspected sarcasm in the first part of the captain's reply, it did not trouble him. His self-sufficiency was proof against anything of that sort.
"Business," he repeated. "Well, that's what I'm here for.
Thinking of cornering the--er--potato market, were you?""No-o. Cranberries would be more in my line, and I cal'late you fellers don't deal in that kind of sass. I had a private matter Iwanted to talk over with you, Mr. Dunn; that is, if you ain't too busy."Malcolm looked at him with an amused curiosity. As he had expressed it in the conversation with his mother, this old fellow certainly was a "card." He seated himself on the arm of the oak settle from which the captain had risen and, lazily swinging a polished shoe, admitted that he was always busy but never too busy to oblige.
"What's on your mind, Captain?" he drawled.
Captain Elisha glanced about him somewhat uneasily.
"I--I don't know as I made it quite clear," he said, "that it was sort of private; somethin' just between us, you understand."Malcolm hesitated. Sliding from the settle, and impatiently commanding the clerk to open the gate in the railing, he led his caller through the main office and into a small room beyond. On the glass pane of the door was lettered, "Mr. Dunn--Private." Aroll-top desk in the corner and three chairs were the furniture.
Malcolm, after closing the door, sprawled in the swing chair before the desk, threw one leg over a drawer, which he pulled out for that purpose, and motioned his companion to occupy one of the other chairs.
Captain Elisha took the offered chair and dropped his hat on the floor beside it. Then he inspected the room and its furnishings with interest. Dunn drew out a pocket case, extracted a cigarette, lit it, and waited for him to speak.
"Well," observed the young man, after a moment, what's the trouble, Admiral? Better get it off your chest, hadn't you? We're private enough here."The captain answered the last question. "Yes," he said, "this is nice and private. Got a stateroom all to yourself; name on the door, and everything complete. You must be one of the officers of the craft.""Yes."
"Um-hm. I sort of expected to find your name on the door outside, but there 'twas, 'Smith, Haynes & Co.' I presume likely you're the 'Co.'""_I_ 'presume likely,'" with mocking impatience. "What about that private matter?"Captain Elisha did not appear to hear him. His eyes were fixed on several photographs stuck in the rail of Mr. Dunn's desk. The photos were those of young ladies.
"Friends of yours?" inquired the captain, nodding toward the photographs.
"No." Dunn took the photos from the rack and threw them into a pigeon hole. "Look here," he said, pointedly, "I wouldn't hurry you for the world, but--"He paused. Captain Elisha did not take the hint. His mind was evidently still busy with the vanished photographs.
"Just fancy pictures, I s'pose, hey?" he commented.
"Doubtless. Any other little points I can give you?""I guess not. I thought they was fancy; looked so to me. Well, about that private matter. Mr. Dunn, I come to see you about an automobile.""An automobile!" The young man was so astonished that he actually removed his feet from the desk. Then he burst into a laugh. "An automobile?" he repeated. "Captain, has the influence of the metropolis made you a sport already? Do you want to buy a car?""Buy one?" It was Captain Elisha's turn to show irritation. "Buy one of them things? Me? I wouldn't buy one of 'em, or run one of 'em, for somethin', _I_ tell you! No, I don't want to buy one.""Why not? Sell you mine for a price."
"Not if I see you fust, thank you. No, Mr. Dunn, 'tain't that.
But one of the hired help up to our place--Caroline's place, Imean--is in trouble on account of one of the dratted machines.
They're poor folks, of course, and they need money to help 'em through the doctorin' and nursin' and while the old man's out of work. Caroline was for givin' it to 'em right off, she's a good-hearted girl; but I said--that is, I kind of coaxed her out of it.
I thought I'd ask some questions first."
"So you came to me to ask them?" Malcolm smiled contentedly.
