"Where are we bound, steward?"
"We're bound out and back to this port, but at how many places we will call, God knows. I don't! When we start, lately, we never know when we'll get back. Sometimes we call at Key West, and usually at Galveston or New Orleans. Don't you know what you signed for?" he asked, without surprise, but grinning significantly.
"Yes," I replied, hesitating somewhat. I wondered why he continued to grin. Then he again asked:
"Are you coming down to mess yourself?"
"Yes, I will come right down."
Following him below, I crowded over on one of the nondescript crew to a seat on the end of a bench at a narrow, bare table, and received from the steward a half-gallon of thick soup dished up in an enameled pan from a galvanized-iron wash-tub. Later I was supplied from the same laundry utensil a liberal portion of what was intended for a meat stew, and a war allowance of bread. I was wondering how Hiram Strong, Jr., accustomed to uptown dining, would relish this atmosphere with its filthy service and coarse food. The men along the bench beside me consumed the soup noisily, like Bowery bums, and bit from chunks of meat on the ends of their forks like swine with their forefeet in a trough.
Sitting at one end, I was able to size up my fellow-firemen, twenty-five of whom were devouring food with great relish as they chattered like magpies, mostly in a foreign tongue. Negroes of all shades, Mexicans, Poles, Italians, Greeks, all sweated out, thin and bleached to the shade of a cadaver. I speculated again as to how young Strong would mix with this motley crew, and why he had allowed himself to choose stoking as a means of livelihood.
After eating I went below, but Strong had not moved and it seemed that his thin white hands and expensive footwear were more out of place than ever. I wondered if he had any money left. Usually were to be found some light-fingered gentry among tramp-steamer firemen, so I took a small chain and padlock from my bag and chained his grip with mine to a bunk stanchion.
Returning to the deck, it was something of a shock to note the ship in complete darkness, no light visible save the red and green signals on either side. Later I learned that the globes were removed from the passenger cabins to prevent even a flash from the rooms of any one disinclined to obey "Lights out" at seven p. m. by order of the Naval authorities.
After clearing Sandy Hook and rounding Scotland lightship, by locating the North Star I saw that the skipper was heading a little east of south against a sharp, cold wind, close in to the Jersey coast, where lights were plainly visible. I was rather astonished to see all lifeboats lowered from their davits to the level of the steerage deck, and by edging down that way, saw they were provisioned with water, biscuits, lanterns and all necessary equipment for immediate use. Then I realized that young Strong had not only chosen an unusual occupation but a rather unpropitious time in which to sign up for duty on the high seas.