"
"Have you figured at all on the proposition, Cap'n?" inquired
Hardenberg.
"There's risk in it, Joe; big risk," declared the President nervously.
"But I'd only ask fifteen per cent."
"You _have_ worked out the scheme, then."
"Well--ah--y'see, there's the risk, and--ah--" Suddenly Ryder leaned
forward, his watery blue eyes glinting: "Boys, it's a _jewel_. It's just
your kind. I'd a-sent for you, to try on this very scheme, if you hadn't
shown up. You kin have the _Bertha Millner_--I've a year's charter o'
her from Wilbur--and I'll only ask you fifteen per cent. of the _net_
profits--_net_, mind you."
"I ain't buyin' no dead horse, Cap'n," returned Hardenberg, "but I'll
say this: we pay no fifteen per cent."
"Banks and the Ruggles were daft to try it and give me twenty-five."
"An' where would Banks land the scheme? I know him. You put him on that
German cipher-code job down Honolulu way, an' it cost you about a
thousand before you could pull out. We'll give you seven an' a half."
"Ten," declared Ryder, "ten, Joe, at the very least. Why, how much do
you suppose just the stores would cost me? And Point Barrow--why, Joe,
that's right up in the Arctic. I got to run the risk o' you getting the
_Bertha_ smashed in the ice."
"What do _we_ risk?" retorted Hardenberg; and it was the monosyllabic
Strokher who gave the answer:
"Chokee, by Jove!"
"Ten is fair. It's ten or nothing," answered Hardenberg.
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