"When does the Virginia leave for Constantinople?" I asked a man in the company's office after introducing Richardson and myself.
"In a few days, as soon as her cargo is loaded. She doesn't run on any schedule," was his reply.
"Mr. Richardson and I are studying conditions in Syria for an American newspaper syndicate and we want to get passage on your boat to Constantinople. We are paying special attention to the commerce and shipping of this section of the world and we wish to make a favourable report. We noticed that your steamer flies the American flag." There had been considerable criticism of the policy of permitting foreign concerns such as the Archipelago-American Steamship Company to fly American colours on their ships. The officials of this company were aware of this and when we gave the newspaper talk they imagined that we might make it a point to use their company as an example in our write-ups.
"But the Virginia is only a freight boat. She hasn't any accommodations for passengers. But——"
"We can put up with the crew," interrupted Richardson. "In fact we would rather travel in that way. We can get the sailor's point of view."
"Can you drop in again this afternoon? I will see what I can do," the man concluded after a moment's reflection.
"Rich, if we don't land that boat to Constantinople I will walk there," I said, as we sauntered along the waterfront from the steamship office.
Two nights later we were nicely settled in a stateroom on the Virginia adjoining the captain's. It was one of the most comfortable cabins we had been in. Across the way was a young Greek governess, a friend of the skipper's. She was also getting a free ride to Constantinople.
The scheduled time for the regular passenger steamers from Beirut to Constantinople is three days. The little Virginia see-sawed up and down the coast of Asia Minor, discharging and taking on freight, for two weeks. Richardson and I didn't care if it took six months for the journey or if she went to South America for a cargo.