“Mr. Doherty, too,” “Shine” volunteered.
The chief looked at him. “Who’s this Doherty anyway?”
“Shine” kept his eyes on the pipe. “He’s the mut that got us all in trouble the time o’ the fire on that other Dutch boat.”
“I thought the ‘Jiggers’ were at the bottom of that,” the chief said, with a pretended innocence.
“They blamed it on us. They blamed ev’rythin’ on us—because some o’ the fat heads higher up used th’ association in their damn con games.”
The chief scowled at this reference to the conspiracy that had ousted him. “You’re a ‘Jigger,’ are you?”
“That’s what I am,” “Shine” admitted, with bravado. “I’m a ‘Jigger’ all right, but I ain’t a back-sticker, any more’n half the other fullahs I know—an’ they didn’t ask us before they put up their deal with the Commissioner, if yuh want to know.”
The chief’s dignity would not let him discuss such matters with a man in the ranks. He said, “Shut off your nozzles there, now. You’re putting too much water on that deck”—and walked away without further remark.
“Shine” said, under his voice, to Cripps: “That’ll hold him fer a while.”
Cripps replied, with a convincing oath, “It’s true, too.”