"Not a single one."
"Well, suh," said the negro, "dis ain't no weapon I got here. I just carry it for luck, Mistah Hamilton."
He displayed a pair of brass knuckles.
"Very well," said Mr. Hamilton, "but be sure you put them where they will not be found."
"Dey won't find 'em," chuckled the negro.
He rolled up the leg of one trouser and stowed the brass knuckles carefully in the top of his sock.
As the Vaterland's small boat approached the Gloucester, Captain Tucker ordered a gangway rigged. Mr. Hamilton's chair was wheeled to this gangway, and those aboard waited the arrival of the German officer in the small boat.
Lieutenant Blum, the Vaterland's officer, leaped nimbly over the rail.
"The captain?" he demanded.
Captain Tucker stepped forward. "I'm Captain Tucker," he said. "This," he indicated Mr. Hamilton, "is the owner, Mr. Hamilton, who is on a voyage for his health."