"Goin' to Staten Island," thought Marlowe, in exultation. "I'll get a chance at him there."
Marlowe had not much money with him, but he had enough to pay the fare to Staten Island—ten cents. So he kept on the track of Julius, and passed the wicket just behind him. The boat was approaching the pier, and they had not long to wait. Julius went to the forward part of the boat, and took a seat just in front of the boiler. Marlowe took a position near, but not too near. He had considerable confidence in his disguise, but did not want to run any unnecessary risk of recognition. It so happened that a few steps from him was a genuine specimen of the profession he was counterfeiting. With the sociability characteristic of a sailor, he undertook to open a conversation with Marlowe.
"Hollo, shipmate!" he said.
"Hollo, yourself!" said the counterfeit, not over pleased with the salutation.
"I thought I'd hail you, seein' we both foller the sea. Have you been long ashore?"
"Not long," answered Marlowe.
"Where was your last v'y'ge?"
"To Californy," answered Marlowe, hesitating.
"What craft?"
Here was an embarrassing question. Marlowe wished his questioner at the North Pole, but felt compelled to answer.