"I'll fish around an' see what figger Scraggs charged him," the
cautious Gibney replied and stepped to the rail to meet Gin Seng,
for it was indeed he.

"Sow-see, sow-see, hun-gay," Mr Gibney saluted the Chinaman in a
facetious attempt to talk the latter's language. "Hello, there,
John Chinaman. How's your liver? Captain he allee same get tired;
he no waitee. Wha's mallah, John. Too long time you no come. You
heap lazy all time."

Gin Seng smiled his bland, inscrutable Chinese smile. "You
ketchum two China boy in box?" he queried.

"We have," boomed McGuffey, "an' beautiful specimens they be."

"No money, no China boy," Gibney added firmly.

"Money have got. Too muchee money you wantee. No can do. Me pay
two hundred dollah. Five hundred dollah heap muchee. No have
got."

"Nothin' doin', John. Five hundred dollars an' not a penny less.
Put up the dough or beat it."

Gin Seng expostulated, lied, evaded, and all but wept, but Mr.
Gibney was obdurate and eventually the Chinaman paid over the
money and departed with the remains of his countrymen. "I knew
he'd come through, Bart," Mr. Gibney declared. "They got to ship
them stiffs to China to rest alongside their ancestors or be in
Dutch with the sperrits o' the departed forever after."