“The only thing is to offer extra pay. There are plenty of sailors in San Francisco; for they’ve not all gone to gather gold. Some are engaged in scattering it. Unfortunately, most are worthless, drunken fellows. Still it is possible that a few good men might be found, were the wages made sufficiently tempting. No doubt, an advertisement in the Diario, offering double pay, might attract as many as would be needed for working my ship.”
“How much would it all amount to?”
“Possibly an extra thousand dollars.”
“Suppose I pay that, will you engage the whole ship to me? That is, take no other passengers, or wait for any more freight, but sail at once—soon as you’ve secured a crew? Do you agree to these terms?”
“Si, señor; they are perfectly satisfactory.”
“I’ll be answerable for the extra wages. Anything to get away from this Pandemonium of a place.”
“In that case, señor, I think we’ll have no great difficulty in procuring hands. You authorise me to advertise for them?”
“I do,” answers Don Gregorio.
“Enough!” rejoins the skipper. “And now, Señor Montijo, you may make your preparations for embarking.”
“I’ve not many to make; nearly all has been done already. It’s only to get our personal baggage aboard, with the freight safely stowed. By the way,” adds the Biscayan, speaking sotto-voce, “I wish to ship the gold as soon as possible, and without attracting attention to it. You understand me, captain?”