After dusk, the crew poured en masse to the nearest waterfront saloon with me. The ten dollars didn't last long.
"His old man has lots of money."
Our last night at the pier was a night of a million stars.
The sailmaker, with whom I had become well acquainted, waddled up to me. He was bow-legged. He waddled instead of walked. We sat talking on the foreward hatch....
"I'm glad we're getting off to-morrow," I remarked.
"—we might not. We lack a man for the crew yet."
"—thought we had the full number?"
"We did. But one of the boys in your party strayed away ... went to another saloon and had a few more drinks ... and someone stuck him with a knife in the short ribs ... he's in the hospital."