do," said the Yankee. "You are in trouble, and he is not,
nor never will be till he dies, and then he'll get it hot, I calc'late.
He is a thief and stole my harpoon: you are an honest man and brought it
back. I reckon I'll deal with you and not with that old cuss; not by a
jugful! But it must be on a percentage. You tell me the bearings of that
there island, and I'll work it and pay five per cent on the gross."

"Would you mind throwing that piece of wood into the sea, Mr. Fullalove?"
said Robert.

"Caen't be done, nohow. I caen't deal without whittlin'."

"You mean you can't take an unfair advantage without it. Come, Mr.
Fullalove, let us cut this short. I am, as you say, an honest and most
unfortunate man. Sir, I was falsely accused of a crime and banished my
country. I can prove my innocence now if I can but get home with a great
deal of money. So much for _me._ You are a member of the vainest and most
generous nation in the world."

"Wal, now that's kinder honey and vinegar mixed," said Fullalove; "pretty
good for a Britisher, though."

"You are a man of that nation which in all the agonies and unparalleled
expenses of civil war, smarting, too, under anonymous taunts from
England, did yet send over a large sum to relieve the distresses of
certain poor Englishmen who were indirect victims of that same calamity.
The act, the time, the misery relieved, the taunts overlooked, prove your
nation superior to all others in generosity. At least my reading, which
is very large, affords no parallel to it, either in ancient or modern
history. Mr. Fullalove, please to recollect that you are a member of that
nation, and that I am very unhappy and helpless, and want money to undo
cruel wrongs, but have no heart to chaffer much. Take the island and the
treasures, and give me half the profits you make. Is not that fair?"

Fullalove wore a rueful countenance.

"Darn the critter," said he, "he'll take skin off my bones if I don't
mind. Fust Britisher ever I met as had the sense to see _that._ 'Twas
rather handsome, warn't it? Wal, human nature is deep; every man you
tackle in business larns ye something. What with picking ye out o' the
sea, and you giving me back the harpoon the cuss stole, and your face
like a young calf, when you are the 'cutest fox out, and you giving the
great United States their due, I'm no more fit to deal than mashed
potatoes. Now I cave; it is only for once. Next time don't you try to
palaver me. Draw m