“Twenty-four feet wide and eighty-three feet long,” he said. He paused a moment, figuring, “Twelve feet for the cabin, three for the closets, and eighty-three for the cargo. That totals ninety-eight feet. There are two feet of space unaccounted for. I don’t pay for one hundred feet of boat if there’s only ninety-eight,” and again he looked significantly at Mr. Morgan.
“What about that, Jensen?” asked the steamship manager. “Are you sure this craft is one hundred feet long?”
“Come to think of it,” said the boatman uneasily, “it is only ninety-eight feet. I got so used to thinkin’ it was about a hundred that I just called it an even hundred. That’s all it is, sir, ninety-eight feet.”
“Well, I’m going to make sure,” said Sheridan. “I don’t buy any boat unless I know exactly what I’m getting.”
He climbed to the deck and rapidly measured. “She’s a hundred feet exactly,” he said. And he turned on the boatman severely. “How do you account for those two missing feet?” he demanded.
A crafty look came into Jensen’s eyes. “Two feet is it?” he said. “Why, I just boarded a little space in the back of the hold to keep my cabin warm.”
Once more Sheridan glanced at the steamship manager. “You didn’t need to board up a space two feet wide to keep your cabin warm. Six inches would have been plenty. Why, that cuts down the cargo space tremendously. We’ll have to have that partition down. I want to know exactly how much I can carry in this boat. And besides, there might be some rotten planks in the hull in that two-foot space. I’d like to look in there.”
“Tear out your partition,” said Mr. Morgan. “This man is entitled to see every part of the boat before he buys her.”
“I ain’t got nothin’ to do it with,” said Jensen. “I’ll do it to-night and he can have a look at her to-morrow.”
“That won’t do. I’ve got to choose between this boat and another this very morning. Surely you’ve got a hatchet. What did you use to put the partition up?”