"Keep it warm in here," he said to Alec. "You can set and sleep in this easy chair, or you can lay down on a bunk in the other room. Now take care of yourself." And the captain was off.
For a time Alec sat by the fire, thinking over the events of the past few days. Then he fell to meditating on what he ought to do with himself. He had never had a consuming desire to do any one thing in life in preference to all other tasks, as some boys have. Always he had cared more for boats and the water than for any other form of sport; but it had never occurred to him that boating might in some sense become his life-work. Now the possibility seemed very real, and not at all distasteful. But if he became an oysterman, he wanted to be more than merely a deck-hand. He wanted to climb up, to be at the top of the business instead of the bottom. When he remembered what he had been told as to the difficulties of becoming an oyster-planter and of the large amount of money required, he could see no way to achieve such an end. He did not see how he could ever earn and save enough money to buy an oyster-boat. Alec was a lad of good sense, however, and after speculating about the matter for a time, he suddenly said to himself, "This is all foolishness. You don't even know yet whether or not you want to be an oysterman. If you do, the best way to succeed is to learn all about the business you can. So you had better get out and make use of your time, instead of loafing here."
He left the office and went down to the pier shed. Practically all the oyster-boats had cast off and were on their way to the Bay. Alec could see their lights twinkling in the darkness over a long stretch of river. It was still too early for those who worked about the piers to be on hand, so Alec had the pier shed pretty much to himself. He walked up and down, looking at everything that interested him.
Presently the night-watchman came along, lantern in hand, and looked at him pretty sharply. "Looking for somebody?" he asked; and Alec saw the man was suspicious of him.
"Just waiting for Captain Rumford or some of his scow men," said Alec. "I'm working for the captain. Went out on the Bertha B yesterday, but I'm going to work here to-day."
The watchman seemed satisfied. "You're working for a fine man," he said. "There ain't none better than Captain Rumford."
Together they strolled along until they came to Captain Rumford's pier. In the slip were four oyster scows, their bottoms littered with old shells. All the other scows about had been cleaned and put in order.
"The captain won't like that," said the watchman. "That's twice lately that nobody got his shells. He's the very deuce for having things orderly."
"What do you mean?" asked Alec. "Was somebody supposed to take those shells away?" And he thought of the old man he had been following when he was thrown overboard.
"Sure. There are several fellows that collect 'em, and the captain always gives 'em to the first fellow that asks for 'em, though old Pete usually gets 'em. But the captain don't care who takes 'em, so his scows are clean."