"I suppose all's up?" said I, with an incredible
sinking.
"No," he replied; "I've pulled it through, Loudon--just
pulled it through. I couldn't have raised another cent
in all 'Frisco. People don't like it; Longhurst even
went back on me; said he wasn't a three-card-monte
man."
"Well, what's the odds?" said I. "That's all we
wanted, isn't it?"
"Loudon, I tell you I've had to pay blood for that
money," cried my friend, with almost savage energy and
gloom. "It's all on ninety days, too; I couldn't get
another day--not another day. If we go ahead with this
affair, Loudon, you'll have to go yourself and make the
fur fly. I'll stay, of course--I've got to stay and
face the trouble in this city; though, I tell you, I
just long to go. I would show these fat brutes of
sailors what work was; I would be all through that
wreck and out at the other end, before they had boosted
themselves upon the deck! But you'll do your level
best, Loudon; I depend on you for that. You must be
all fire and grit and dash from the word "go." That
schooner, and the boodle on board of her, are bound to
be here before three months, or it's B U S T--bust.
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