"He would be classed as a seaman, with wages due, and I think there is a Federal statute to reach such a case quickly—I will find out, Hiram."
"Do that, Ben, and if I don't show up in the morning you will know I got knocked in the head by the water-front gang, but I'm going to see what Becker sends down here in the night, or die in the attempt."
CHAPTER XVIII
I had to be up that night too, and I had not been in long before he arrived—just before daylight.
"Ben—Ben, awake, and get up! I've got it—I've got it—see here!" he persisted, holding a piece of cardboard before my eyes now dazzled by the sudden light. "Do you know what that is?" he roared, standing on tiptoes while I gazed at it. He was more energetic and enthusiastic than the night before, although he had not been to bed. His eyes appeared to be a bit bloodshot.
Raising up in bed, I took the piece of cardboard and sat blinking at it when, all of a sudden, Hiram lost patience.
"Damn it, Ben, can't you see what it is?—that's a piece of a ten-pound sausage carton, and it came from Becker's place. Now then, we've got 'em," he said with suppressed voice. What he handed me was unquestionably a part of a folding box, one of the corner locks, and a part of the end on which there was tell-tale printing.