"He come from up in Pennsylvania," said Captain Bagley, "and he's a nephew of my old buddy, Thomas Robinson, that was drowned when the Mary Ford's anchor purchase parted last spring. His parents is dead and he come here to find his uncle. Hit here last night without a cent and slept out on our pier in them oyster sacks. Darned wonder he didn't freeze to death."
"That's a shame," exclaimed Captain Rumford, "with so many bunks around here he could have slept in. Why, there's half a dozen in this office."
"It didn't hurt me any," laughed Alec, "but it was cold." And a little shiver ran down his back at the recollection of his chilly bed.
"Wonder where Hawley got his booze," said Captain Rumford presently. "He was a pretty good man, wasn't he? What are you going to do with him?"
"Yes. He was a good worker, but I ain't got time to fool with that kind o' cattle. I'll tell him to go aboard and get his things. I've got to have men I can depend on."
Captain Rumford arose and began to pull on his overcoat. "Time to be getting home," he said. "Just a word with you, Bagley, before I go." He entered an inner room, followed by his ship captain. "Does this young chap intend to become an oysterman?" asked the shipper.
"I don't know that, Cap'n," replied the master of the Bertha B. "He was flat on his back when he struck here and would probably have taken any job he could get. Hadn't had anything to eat for twenty-four hours."
"Well, he's got a good, clean face. I like the cut of his jib. Got lots of grit, if I ain't mistaken. Looks as though he knew something, too."
"He's a wireless man. Got an outfit with him that he made himself. He's had a high school education, too."
"He has, eh? Well, I've been sizing him up, and I thought he was a clever lad. Got the making of a good man in him. How does he work?"