“You would, of course,” Jerry answered placidly; “but the Oriental Steamship Company cannot.”
“Why?”
“Fifty-one per cent. of their stock is owned by a railroad—and under the law no railroad-owned ship may use the Canal.”
Matt's eyebrows arched.
“Ah!” he murmured. “Then that's one of the reasons why she's a white elephant on their hands.”
“Got a customer for her?” Jerry queried shrewdly. “A fellow ought to be able to pick the Narcissus up rather cheap.”
Matt shook his head negatively.
“Happened to pass her in a launch a couple of hours ago, and the sight of the barnacles on her bottom just naturally graveled me and roused my curiosity. Much obliged for your information.” And Matt excused himself and strolled over to the counter of the Hydro-graphic Office to look over the recent bulletins to masters.
The information that the whistling buoy off Duxbury Reef had gone adrift and that Blunt's Reef Lightship would be withdrawn for fifteen days for repairs and docking interested him but little, however. In his mind's eye there loomed the picture of that great red freighter, with her foul bottom, rusty funnel and unpainted, weather-beaten upper works.
“Her bridge is pretty well exposed to the weather,” he murmured. “I'd build it up so the man on watch could just look over it. I noticed they'd had the good sense to house over her winches, so I dare say they're in good shape; her paint will have prevented rust below the water line, and I'll bet she's as sound as the day she was built. I think I'd paint her dead black, with red underbody and terra-cotta upper works.” He pondered. “Yes, and I'd paint her funnel dead black, too, with a broad red band; and on both sides of the funnel, in the center of this red band, I'd have a white diamond with a black P in the center of it. By George, they'd know the Peasley Line as far as they could see it!”