'How many of you have been in Portland before?'
Five men held up their hands.
'And how many more in Pacific Coast ports, such as 'Frisco or Tacoma?'
Three more said that they had. The skipper nodded.
'I want to know how many of you left your ships there. Speak up and tell the truth.'
The eight men shuffled about a bit, and finally a seaman called Jacobs opened his mouth.
'Yes, Jacobs?' said Ticehurst.
'I reckon we all, more or less, skipped out, sir,' said Jacobs. And no one contradicted him.
'I thought so,' said the skipper. 'And I'll tell you what happened. You left a ship and left from ten to twenty pounds behind, and you went to Healy's or to Sant's at Tacoma, and were drunk on bad liquor for a week, and then found yourselves without any clothes to speak of in a homeward-bounder, with an advance of thirty dollars to work out, didn't you?'
'That's about it, sir,' said the shamefaced Jacobs.