Mr. Dobb, nodding his head, modestly refrained from speech. Captain Gooster, as though he had satisfactorily disposed of all preliminaries, sat back and stroked his chin in thought for some moments.
“I’m glad I came across you to-night, ’Orace,” he said, at length. “A man with a ’ead-piece—that’s what I’m looking for.”
“Well, that is lucky!” declared Horace. “I’m looking out for another job and the ‘Alert’ would just suit me.”
“Yes, I ’eard about the ‘Jane Gladys,’” said Captain Gooster, slowly. “But I wasn’t looking out for a man for my crew. It’s just a private matter. You ’elp me, if you can, and as far as a pint or two goes—”
“You’ll excuse me, sir,” interrupted Mr. Dobb, with dignity, “but brain work ain’t bought with pints, nor quarts, neither. I’m looking for a job, not a evening out.”
“Well, we’ll see,” temporized the master of the “Alert.” “If you needs a job and does me a good turn, I ain’t the man to forget it.”
“Thank you, sir; and a gentleman’s word is good enough for me!” stated Mr. Dobb, profusely. “And you won’t ever regret taking me on the ‘Alert.’ And I can start this week with you, if you like.”
“Steady!” begged the startled captain. “Why, you ain’t even ’eard what the trouble is yet.”
“I’ll soon settle it, sir, whatever it is,” vaunted Horace. “Just you tell me about it, and leave the rest to me.”
“Well, then,” said Captain Gooster, confidentially, “to begin with, you must know I’m a widower.”