r. Gibney grinned broadly but did not answer. In effect, his
grin informed Scraggs that _that_ was none of the latter's
business--and Scraggs assimilated the hint. "Well, at any rate,
Gib, whatever you soaked him, it was a mighty good sale an' I
congratulate you. I think mebbe I might ha' done a little better
myself, but then it ain't every day a feller can turn an
eighteen-dollar trick on a corpse."

"Comin' to lunch with us?" McGuffey demanded.

"Sure. Wait a minute till I run forward an' see if the lines is
all fast."

He stepped out of the cabin and presently Gibney and McGuffey
were conscious of a rapid succession of thuds on the deck. Gibney
winked at McGuffey.

"'Nother new hat gone to hell," murmured McGuffey.

CHAPTER XVIII

It was fully a week before Captain Scraggs's mental hemorrhage,
brought on every time his mind reverted to his loss on the "ginseng"
deal, ceased. During all of that period his peregrinations around
the _Maggie_ were as those of one for whom the sweets of existence
had turned to wormwood and vinegar. Mr. Gibney confided to McGuffey
that it was a toss-up whether the old man was meditating murder or
suicide. In fact, so depressed was Captain Scraggs that he lacked
absolutely the ambition to "rag" his associates; observing which Mr.
McGuffey vouchsafed the opinion that perhaps Scraggsy was "teched a
mite in his head-block."

"Don't you think it," Mr. Gibney warned. "If old Scraggsy's crazy
he's crazy like a fox. What's rilin' him is the knowledge that
he's stung to the heart an' can't admit it without at the same
time admittin' he'd cooked up a deal to double-cross us. He's
just a-bustin' with the thoughts that's accumulatin' inside him.
Right now he'd drown his sorrers in red liquor if he could afford
it."

"He's troubled financially, Gib."

"Well, you know who troubled him, don't you, Bart?"

"I mean about the cost o' them repairs in the engine room. Unless
he can come through in thirty days with the balance he owes, the
boiler people are goin' to libel the _Maggie_ to protect their
claim."

Mr. Gibney arched his bushy eyebrows. "How do you know?" he
demanded.

"He was a-tellin' me," Mr. McGuffey admitted weakly.

"Well, he wasn't a-tellin' me." Mr. Gibney's tones were ominous;
he glared at his friend suspiciously as from the _Maggie's_ cabin
issued forth Scraggsy's voice raised in song.

"Hello! The old boy's thermometer's gone up, Bart. Listen at him.
'Ever o'