"
The one-eyed dealer--Jack was right, he had but one eye--at once agreed
with Jack as to the proper ultimate destination of the Ziem, and under
the influence of the cigar which Jack had insisted on lighting for him,
assisted by Jack's casual mention of his father--a name that was known
to be good for half a million--and encouraged--greatly encouraged
indeed--by an aside from Sam that the painter had already been offered
more than he paid for it by a man worth millions--under all these
influences, assistances, and encouragements, I say, the one-eyed dealer
so modified his demands that an additional twenty-four hours was
granted Jack in which to settle his account, the Monet to remain in his
possession.
When Sam returned from this second bowing-out his language was more
temperate. "You're a Cracker-Jack," was all he said, and closed the door
behind him.
During the ten days that followed, Jack gloated over the Monet and
staved off his various creditors until his father's semi-monthly
remittance arrived.
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