CHAPTER V EVENING AT THE OYSTER PIER
On the way across the river every man in the crew had pulled off his oilskins, and now all were ready to go ashore.
"Come along with me, Alec," said Captain Bagley as he scrambled over the rail.
The Bertha B's pier, and all the other piers, were covered for the greater part of their length by an enormous roof sloping up to the building that extended along the landward side of the piers. This building, hundreds of feet in length, was tenanted by the various oyster shippers. Each occupied a small section of it containing wareroom and storage compartments on the pier level, and office rooms on the floor above. At every pier little openings, like tiny tunnels, led through this long building to the wide shipping platform on the farther side, where the trains were loaded.
Captain Bagley entered one of these tunnel-like passages, but half-way through he stepped into a little wareroom, nearly filled with sacked oysters, and mounted some narrow wooden stairs. Alec followed close at his heels. The stairs led to the office of Captain Rumford, and that individual was sitting behind his desk, addressing shipping tags. He looked up as Captain Bagley entered, said "Hello!" and went on addressing tags. Captain Bagley sat down in a chair, by the pot-bellied stove in the centre of the room, and motioned for Alec to occupy a second chair.
On the walls were hung pictures of boats, gaudy advertising calendars of oyster shippers and ship-chandlers, with models of oyster-boats, that Alec found very interesting. Oilskins hung on pegs and long boots stood in a corner, showing that Captain Rumford was as well prepared for bad weather as any of his sailors. Alec rightly guessed that sometimes he went along with his boats to the oyster grounds.
When Captain Rumford had finished his tags, he laid down his pen, turned away from his desk, and tilted back in his chair. "Well, Bagley, how did it go to-day?" he asked.
"Not so bad, not so bad," replied Captain Bagley, "everything considered. Looked bad for a time, though. That Hawley got drunk last night and snuk off after he'd had his breakfast. But this kid turned up and took his place. Then old Hardy fouled us and broke his bowsprit, and that held us up so long we got stuck on the bar. Every boat in the fleet got hung up. Bar was clean out o' water. Made us late gettin' out. But we got more than four hundred baskets at that. Not so bad, eh? Not so bad."
"Good enough, Bagley. Who is the lad?"
"Name's Alec Cunningham," said Captain Bagley. "Alec, this is Captain Rumford."
Alec sprang to his feet, stepped to the captain's side, and shook hands with him.
He knew at once that he was going to like Captain Rumford. The captain's glance seemed to bore right through Alec. He felt as though the captain could read everything that was in his mind. But there was a kindly expression about his face that won Alec instantly.
"Where do you come from?" asked Captain Rumford. "I never saw you around here."
"He come from up in Pennsylvania," said Captain Bagley, "and he's a nephew of my old buddy, Thomas Robinson, that was drowned when the Mary Ford's anchor purchase parted last spring. His parents is dead and he come here to find his uncle. Hit here last night without a cent and slept out on our pier in them oyster sacks. Darned wonder he didn't freeze to death."
"That's a shame," exclaimed Captain Rumford, "with so many bunks around here he could have slept in. Why, there's half a dozen in this office."
"It didn't hurt me any," laughed Alec, "but it was cold." And a little shiver ran down his back at the recollection of his chilly bed.
"Wonder where Hawley got his booze," said Captain Rumford presently. "He was a pretty good man, wasn't he? What are you going to do with him?"
"Yes. He was a good worker, but I ain't got time to fool with that kind o' cattle. I'll tell him to go aboard and get his things. I've got to have men I can depend on."
Captain Rumford arose and began to pull on his overcoat. "Time to be getting home," he said. "Just a word with you, Bagley, before I go." He entered an inner room, followed by his ship captain. "Does this young chap intend to become an oysterman?" asked the shipper.
"I don't know that, Cap'n," replied the master of the Bertha B. "He was flat on his back when he struck here and would probably have taken any job he could get. Hadn't had anything to eat for twenty-four hours."
"Well, he's got a good, clean face. I like the cut of his jib. Got lots of grit, if I ain't mistaken. Looks as though he knew something, too."
"He's a wireless man. Got an outfit with him that he made himself. He's had a high school education, too."
"He has, eh? Well, I've been sizing him up, and I thought he was a clever lad. Got the making of a good man in him. How does he work?"
"Good! Mighty good. Took right hold like an old-timer. Just had to see a thing done once, and he picked it up as though he had done it all his life."
"Know anything about his habits?"
"No. But he don't use tobacco, and I'm pretty sure he never touched booze."
"Well, take care of him, but don't spoil him. Put him through the mill and see what he's got in him. If he's the lad I take him to be, we don't want him to get away from us. It's hard to find really good men nowadays. Well, I must get home. Now mind you don't spoil him."
When the two men came back into the main office Captain Rumford said rather severely, "Young man, Captain Bagley wants to take you on as a regular hand. He says he's going to fire the fellow who was drunk this morning. I don't know about it. I don't know about it. It's a risky thing to do, when we're so short handed. Jim Hawley is a good worker."
"Oh, sir, if only you will let me stay," pleaded Alec, "you'll never be sorry. It's true I don't know anything about oystering yet, but I can learn, sir. And I can and will work as hard as anybody. I need the work—need it terribly. Please, sir, give me a chance."
"Well," said the shipper, "I make it a rule not to interfere with my captains. Bagley says he wants you, and I suppose I shall have to humor him. Your uncle was a great friend of his. But mind, you can't hold a job on one of my boats just because your uncle was a friend of the skipper. I'll give you a job. But it's up to you to keep it. Understand?"
"Thank you, sir. Thank you," said Alec gratefully. "It's very good of you to give me the chance. I'll try to make good, sir. I can learn as well as anybody."
"Very well. We will see what you can do. Now I must be getting home, or I'll have to account to Mrs. Rumford for this extra half hour."
The captain's face was as stern as ever, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that belied the sternness. And the tone in which the skipper said, "Good night, Bagley," confirmed Alec's first impression that Captain Rumford had a soft heart under his somewhat rough exterior.
The three oystermen went down-stairs. Captain Rumford locked the door and went to his automobile, parked on the farther side of the railroad. Alec and Captain Bagley turned back toward the pier shed. To Alec, the interview just ended seemed momentous. He had a job. He had a start in life. But little did he dream what a part this half hour in the oyster shipper's office was destined to play in his life.
It was still daylight, though dusk was at hand. "If it's all right," said Alec, "I'd like to look around a bit."
"Look as much as you like," said Captain Bagley. "But you'd better turn in early. You know we have to be out to the oyster-beds by sunup. Hello! There's Hawley now."
Alec waited to see what would happen. The big oysterman came swinging along under the pier shed, just sufficiently unsteady on his feet to betray the fact that he had been drinking again.
"Go aboard and get your duds," called Captain Bagley sharply, as the man came up to him. "You can get what's due you on Friday when the rest are paid."
"What do you mean?"
"You know well enough what I mean. Take your clothes out of my boat and don't you set foot in her again."
The drunken oysterman leered at Captain Bagley. "You can't fire me. You've got only three men left and there ain't another hand to be had."
"There ain't, eh? Well, here's one. He did your work to-day, and he's going to do it every day. See? Now get your things out of the Bertha B and be quick about it."
Instantly a change came over the oysterman. "Take the bread from an honest man's mouth, would you?" he snarled, turning upon Alec. "Take his job away from him, would you? You young pup, I'll fix you!"
His attitude was so threatening that Alec stepped back in alarm.
Captain Bagley grasped the sailor by the arm and spun him around. "You get your clothes and get out here before you get in trouble," he said sternly.
The oysterman swore viciously, but obeyed, and went shambling down the pier to the boat.
"You'd better keep your weather-eye on him," said the captain. "I don't believe he'd really try to hurt you, but he's a bad actor when he gets drunk. So just watch him. I'll go aboard and see that he behaves himself on the Bertha B."
Alec hastened to have a look at his surroundings before darkness came. Although it was late in the day, there was still much activity on the piers, for this was the rush season. In the slips between piers were many square-ended scows, some loaded deep with oysters that were covered with burlap sacks against a sudden cold snap, while others were entirely emptied of their cargo, their sacks laid in neat piles amidships.
Still other scows were being unloaded. Mostly four scow men were at work in each scow, counting and culling the oysters. As fast as the baskets were filled, they were hoisted to the piers, where other men emptied them into sacks and tossed the empty baskets back into the scows. Six baskets filled a sack. The sacks were sewed up as fast as they were filled, and trundled off on trucks to the waiting cars. Such rattlers and empty shells as had gotten in among the good oysters were thrown in little heaps in the centres of the scows.
Presently Alec saw a rough looking old fellow sculling a flat-bottomed boat into a slip where some empty scows were floating.
"Can I have your shells, Cap'n?" asked the boatman of the shipper who stood on the pier, sewing up the last of his sacks.
"Sure," said the shipper, and the old boatman began to shovel the shells from the scows into his own boat.
"Now I wonder what he wants with those shells," thought Alec. Then, following his rule, he decided to watch and see what the old fellow did with them.
As there were six scows to clean, it was evident that it would take him some time to get all the shells; so Alec walked on. He went past pier after pier. On most of them, men were just finishing their day's work, sewing up and trundling away the last of their oysters. On some piers were great rows of barrels, such as had sheltered Alec from the wind on Captain Rumford's pier. On practically every pier baskets were stacked up like the barrels; and when Alec noticed how wet they were, he rightly guessed that they were left out in the wind to dry. On some piers seines were hung up on long poles that extended from rafter to rafter. Yawl boats, most of them equipped with gasoline engines, floated in the slips. And several had been stowed on piers. One by one the oyster craft were tying up at the ends of the piers, so that the river began to present as crowded an appearance as it had in the early morning.
At the end of the pier shed was a big blacksmith shop, with quantities of dredges, anchors, and other boat equipment to be mended.
Alec went around the end of the pier house and started back along the wide shipping platform. He was amazed to see that three lines of cars on three parallel tracks stood ready to receive the day's yield of oysters. Little, metal markers, labeled Scranton, Wilkes-Barre, Williamsport, New York, and so on, were stuck in the doors of the various cars, to help the men trucking the oysters get them in the proper cars. The strings of cars reached the full length of the oyster sheds, which must have been at least two hundred yards; and Alec saw at once that when the three strings were coupled in one train, there would be considerably more than a third of a mile of oysters going to market. When he remembered that he had seen another train at the oyster sheds across the river, he suddenly realized what an enormous industry this oyster business was, and what a lot of money there must be in it for successful oyster shippers. It made him more determined than ever to look into the situation well and see if his opportunity in life might not lie right here.
As Alec walked along the shipping platform, his wonder grew. Here were telegraph stations, butcher shops, ship-chandleries, where one could buy almost anything needed aboard ship, and so on, as well as the offices of the oystermen. Overhead swung the signs of the different shippers, and Alec was interested in reading them. On these signs he saw many of the names he had seen earlier in the day on the oyster-boats themselves; and he guessed that many of these boats, like the Bertha B and the Mary and Willie, must have been named after members of the shippers' families.
By the time Alec had completed the circuit of the oyster sheds, and gotten back to the slip where the old man was collecting shells, it was almost dark. The shell collector was just sculling his craft out of the slip into the river. Alec walked to the end of the pier and saw that the man was pointing his boat up-stream. Deciding to follow him on land, Alec hurried along under the pier shed in pursuit.
Long before this the electric lights had been lighted, and Alec did not realize how dark it really was until he had passed beyond the shed under the open sky. At first he could hardly see anything. Once he glanced back, and in the faint light from the pier shed made out the form of a man behind him. As he went on, he heard footsteps coming close, but thought nothing of it. He came to a little landing place built of a few planks, that projected well out over the water. His eyes had now grown accustomed to the dark, and he cautiously made his way out on this landing, to look for the shell collector. He was surprised to hear a tread behind him on the landing. Just as he turned to see who was coming, there was a rush of feet on the planks, a hoarse voice cursed him viciously, and in another instant powerful arms grasped him and flung him headlong into the swirling tide.