"Well, you can swell around in gold braid now and catch your heiress,"

observed Captain Wass to his mate.

"I'm sorry, skipper," said the young man, with real feeling. "You are

the man to be promoted, not I. It isn't right--it doesn't seem real."

"There isn't any real steamboating on this coast any longer. It is--I

don't know what the devil it is," snarled the veteran. "I have been

sniffing and scouting. I'd like to be a mouse in the wall of them New

York offices and hear what it is they're trying to do to us poor cusses.

Ordered one day to keep the law; ordered the next day to break the law;

hounded by owners and threatened by the government! I'm glad I'm out of

it and glad you've got a good job. That last I'm specially glad about.

But keep your eye peeled. There are queer doings round about you!"

Fogg entered the cabin and shut the door behind him. He found Boyne

sitting on a stool and looking somewhat apprehensive. "Hiding?" inquired

Fogg.

"I thought I wouldn't show myself till I was sure about who was on that

tug," said the young man.

"That's the boy, David," complimented Fogg, with real heartiness.

"You're no fool. Nothing like being careful. Pack your bag and go aboard

the tug." He marched out.

"Philadelphia charter has been canceled, eh?" asked Captain Wass. The

tone of his voice did not invite amity.

"It has, sir."

"Seems queer to turn down a cargo that's there waiting--and the old boat

can carry it cheaper than anybody else, the way I've got expenses fined

down."

"Are you trying to tell me my business?"

"I have beep steamboating forty years, and I know a little something

about it."

Mr. Fogg looked at the old mariner, eyes narrowed. He wanted to inform

Captain Wass that the latter knew altogether too much about steamboating

for the kind of work that was planned out along the coast in those

ticklish times.

"Then I ain't to expect anything special from now on?" asked the

skipper. In spite of his determination to be crusty and keep his upper

lip stiff, he could not repress a little wistfulness, and his eyes roved

over the old freighter with affection.

"Not a thing, sir!" Mr. Fogg was blunt and cool. He started for the

ladder. He slapped the shoulder of Mayo as he passed the young man.

"Here's the kind of chap we're looking for nowadays. The sooner you

report, my boy, the better for you."




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