"And she nigh rammed the Nequasset in the fog the last trip I made up
the coast. It was simply touch and go, Mr. Fogg, and all her fault. We
were following the rules to the letter."
"And that's one way of spoiling the business of a steamboat line,"
snapped Fogg. He added, to himself, "But it isn't my way!"
"I'm sorry, but I have been trained to believe that a record for safety
is better than all records for speed, sir."
"I let Jacobs go because he was old-fashioned, Mayo. This is the age of
taking chances--taking chances and getting there! Business, politics,
railroading, and steam-boating. The people expect it. The right folks do
it."
"You are general manager of this line, Mr. Fogg. Do you order me to make
schedule time, no matter what conditions are?"
"You are the captain of this boat. I simply want you to deliver
up-to-date goods. As to how you do it, that is not my business. I'm not
a sea-captain, and I don't presume to advise as to details."
Captain Mayo was young, He knew the 'longcoast game. He was ambitious.
Opportunity had presented itself. He understood the unreasoning temper
of those who sought dividends without bothering much about details. He
knew how other passenger captains were making good with the powers who
controlled transportation interests. He confessed to himself that he had
envied the master of the rushing Triton who had swaggered past as if
he owned the sea.
Till then Mayo had been the meek and apologetic passer-by along the
ocean lane, expecting to be crowded to one side, dodging when the big
fellow bawled for open road.
He remembered with what haste he always manouvered the old Nequasset
out of the way of harm when he heard the lordly summons of the passenger
liners. Was not that the general method of the freighter skippers? Why
should he not expect them to get out of his way, now that he was one of
the swaggerers of the sea? Let them do the worrying now, as he had done
the worrying and dodging in the past! He stepped back to his window,
those reflections whirling in his brain.
"This is no freighter," he told himself. "Fogg is right. If I don't
deliver the goods somebody else will be called on to do it, so what's
the use? I'll play the game. Just remember--will you, Mayo--that you've
got your heart's wish, and are captain of the Montana. If I lose this
job on account of a placard with red letters, I'll kick myself on board
a towboat, and stay there the rest of my life."