moment. Instead, he picked up the spoon
with which Cleggett had stirred his highball and began to draw
characters with its wet point upon the table. "If it's a question of
price," he said finally, "I'm prepared to allow you a handsome profit."

Cleggett determined to find out how far he would go.

"You might be willing to pay as much as $5,000 for her--for the old
hulk over there in the canal?"

Loge stopped playing with the spoon and looked searchingly into
Cleggett's face. Then he said:

"I will. Turn her over to me the way she was the day you bought her,
and I'll give you $5,000." He paused, and then repeated, stressing the
words: "MIND YOU, WITH EVERYTHING IN HER THE WAY IT WAS THE DAY YOU
BOUGHT HER."

Cleggett fumbled with his fingers in a waistcoat pocket, drew out the
torn piece of counterfeit money which he had taken from the dead hand,
and flung it on the table.

"Five thousand dollars," he said, "in THAT kind of money?"

Loge looked at it with eyes that suddenly contracted. Clever
dissembler that he was, he could not prevent an involuntary start. He
licked his lips, and Cleggett judged that perhaps his mouth felt a
little dry. But these were the only signs he made. Indeed, when he
spoke it was with something almost like an air of relief.

"Come," he said, "now we're down to brass tacks at last on this
proposition. Mr. Detective, name your real price."

Cleggett did not answer immediately. He appeared to consider his real
price. But in reality he was thinking that there was no longer any
doubt of the origin of the explosion. Since Loge practically
acknowledged the counterfeit money, the man who had died with this
piece of it in his hand must have been one of Loge's men. But he only
said:

"Why do you call me a detective?"

Loge shrugged his shoulders. Then he said again: "Your real price?"

"What," said Cleggett, trying him out, "do you think of $20,000?"

The other gave a long, low whistle.

"Gad!" he cried, "what crooks you bulls are."

"It's not so much," said Cleggett deliberately, "when one takes
everything into consideration."

Loge appeared to meditate. Then he said: "That figure is out of the
question. I'll give you $10,000 and not a cent more."

"You want her pretty badly," said Cleggett. "Or you want what's on
her."

"Why," said Loge, with an assumption of great frankness, "between you
and me I don't care a damn about your boat. I think we understand each