United States or Luxembourg ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Because I've just had a talk with the owners o' the two opposition lines an' they, knowin' me to be chummy with you an' Scraggsy, give me the tip to tell you two that you could have your choice o' two propositions a rate war or a sale o' the Victor for ten thousand dollars.
The main bearin's screamin' again," he wailed. "Oil cup's empty. Ain't I drilled it into your head enough, Scraggsy, that she'll cry her eyes out if you don't let her swim in oil?" He grasped the oil can and, in order to test the efficacy of its squirt, shot a generous stream down Captain Scraggs's collar. "That for them rotten eggs, you miser," he growled. "Heraus mit 'em!"
On the other hand an' futher, if your mission's a peaceful one, you're welcome aboard the Maggie. I may have a temper an' say things that sounds mighty harsh when I'm het up, but in my calmer moments my natural inclination is to be a sport." "Scraggsy, old hard-luck," Mr. Gibney boomed, "we won so we can afford to be generous in victory.
"I did. Likewise the cigar stands an' restaurants, an' the readin' rooms of the Marine Engineers' Association." "Guess he's out hustlin' a job," Mr. Gibney sighed. He was filled with vague forebodings of evil. "If you'd only listened to my advice last night, Scraggsy if you'd only listened," he mourned. "We'll cross our bridges when we come to them, Gib. Cheer up, my boy, cheer up.
So you're willin' to admit that though that there seeress might have helped some the game would have been deader than it is if it hadn't been for my imagination?" Captain Scraggs nodded and Mr. McGuffey slapped the commodore on the back affectionately. "Aye bane buy drink in the Bowhead saloon," The Squarehead announced. "Scraggsy! Mac! Your fins!
"Hell's bells an' panther tracks! I've got my old courses, an' if I foller them we can't help gettin' home." Captain Scraggs laid his hand on Mr. Gibney's great arm and tried to smile paternally. "Gib, my dear boy," he pleaded, "control yourself. Don't argue with me, Gib. I'm master here an' you're mate. Do I make myself clear?" "You do, Scraggsy.
Bart, why'd you do it?" "Oh, hell, Gib, be a good feller," poor McGuffey pleaded. "Don't be too hard on ol' Scraggsy." "We're discussin' you, Bart. 'Pears to me you've sort o' lost confidence in your old shipmate, ain't you? 'Pears that way to me when you act sneaky like." McGuffey bridled. "I ain't a sneak." "A rose by any other name'd be just as sweet," Mr. Gibney quoted.
"We had our good time comin' after all that we've been through but it's time to get down to business agin. Riches has wings, Scraggsy, old salamander, an' even if we are ashore, I'm still the commodore. Now, set around an' we'll hold a meetin'." He banged the chiffonier with his great fist. "Meetin' o' the Maggie Syndicate," he announced. "Meetin'll come to order.
I framed it all up for this filibuster trip you're on, Scraggsy, only I never did hear that they'd picked on you. I told that coffee-coloured rat of a Lopez man to hunt up Scab Johnny and he'd set him right, but if anybody had told me you had the nerve to run the Maggie in on this deal, Scraggsy, I'd a-called him a liar. Scraggs, you're mucho-bueno that is, you're all right.
Gibney pleasantly; "there is, Scraggsy. There's water in just one spot, but it's there in abundance." "Where's that spot?" inquired Scraggs eagerly. Mr. Gibney removed his old Panama hat, and with his index finger pointed downward to where the hair was beginning to disappear, leaving a small bald spot on the crown of his ingenious head. "There," he said, "right there, Scraggsy, old top.
Word Of The Day