“More’n they know themselves, Sonny. Ain’t they slaves fer Ol’ Flint same as I was? Only I did more uv his high class dirty work. I overseed ’em load an’ unload the stuff fer Ol’ Flint an’ it paid enough ter keep my sonny in a shack ashore where he didn’t see his Pop helpin’ ter beat the law. Now when I thought I was through with that an’ ready ter give yer a clean, honest start—where am I?” He buried his face in his hands.
Skippy touched his father on the shoulder with a trembling hand.
“Aw, Pop—forget it, huh? I can help soon too, can’t I? When I get my workin’ papers I can. I’ll even go to night school an’ I’ll be honest an’ like a gentleman just the same as if the Minnie M. Baxter wasn’t condemned an’ we could haul garbage an’ ashes an’ make plenty.” He was quite exhausted by this lengthy declaration but his eyes were full of shining hope.
Toby Dare raised his head.
“Yer a-meanin’ well, Sonny, but yer ain’t got no idea how hard it is ter do anythin’ without a little money. Besides, it sort uv taints a man’s own fam’ly even, when he’s worked fer Ol’ Flint. Decent, honest shipowners give a man the go-by when they find out yer been a Flint man. Yer blackballed, in other words, Sonny—see? Yer ain’t given no chance ter work at an honest job no matter how bad yer want to. An’ I can’t do nothin’ but river work an’ the like—I ain’t never done nothin’ else! The only thing fer a man like me ter do was ter try an’ go on his own hook like I meant ter do with the Minnie M. Baxter. Now I can’t do that unless—unless....” His large, yellow teeth seemed to close over the word hopefully.
“Unless what, Pop?” Skippy asked eagerly.
“Unless I kin make him give me back my money an’ I kin buy another Minnie M. Baxter.” He choked a little and shook his disheveled head. “But that’s too much ter hope fer, Skippy. Ol’ Flint’s never been known ter give anythin’ back—it’s me that oughta know that. I was a fool ter think he could be honest with me—me, a poor workman uv his. Why, Ol’ Flint’s bragged he’d skin anybody what was fool enough ter be skinned.”
Skippy shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“So then will you go to a lawyer like Inspector Jones told you? To please me, Pop, will you?”
“I’m a-goin’ nowheres but ter see Ol’ Flint,” answered Toby hoarsely. “That swell yacht uv his is anchored in the bay an’ he’s livin’ aboard it durin’ this hot spell so I know where ter find him after workin’ hours. He ain’t only ten years older ’n me an’ he’s in good condition an’ jest my size so....”