“Unfortunately the baby appears to be held up on demurrage and I think we've spent at least fifty dollars cabling to Landry that the youngster has failed to report. I imagine the skipper has spent twice that sum inquiring for news—”
“Of course! It's his first baby, isn't it? You must allow for human nature.”
“I thought we would—for the first half dozen cablegrams; but after it became a habit it appeared that Landry ought to pay for his fancies.”
“He should,” Mr. Skinner declared firmly. “Charge the cablegrams to Landry.”
“Nothing doing!” piped Cappy. “Charge 'em to general expense. Dang you, Skinner, I despair of ever breaking you of that habit of operating on the cheap!”
“Oh, very well, sir—only the expense is getting to be quite an item.”
“I'm just about to send him another cablegram,” Mr. Hankins declared fretfully. “The Altair is due to sail from Callao and the baby is still unborn; it will be two months old, at least, before the skipper gets any further news.”
“Let's see your cablegram,” Cappy ordered, and Mr. Hankins passed it over. Cappy read it. “Holy suffering sailor!” he cried. “Why this concern isn't in the hands of a receiver is a mystery to me.” He looked up at Mr. Hankins with blood in his eye. “Here you are, Hankins, trying to saddle a bill of expense on a poor, heartbroken, anxious, embryo parent-to-be. Knowing full well that he only makes a hundred and fifty dollars a month, you admit to an endeavor to stick him for fifty dollars' worth of cablegrams from this end, not to mention those from his end. If you had spent your time, sir, figuring out a way to cut down that cable expense, instead of discovering a rotten way to get rid of it—Why, look here! You can use your code book and save a couple of dollars.”
“Code book!” Mr. Hankins protested indignantly. “Why, who ever heard of a code book for cabling on baby business?”
“Use your shipping code. Here; hand me that code book. There's bound to be something to fit the occasion—there always is. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! Let us see what we shall see under the head of cargoes; Loading! Discharging! Demurrage! Ahem! That won't do. He'd be liable to confuse it with the ship's business. Harumph-h-h! Arrivals. Now we have it. Landry has been asking of an expected arrival, hasn't he?” Cappy ran his index finger down the page. “Here you are, Hankins. Hum-m-m! Afilamos—meaning no new arrivals. Naturally Landry will say to himself: 'Well, for heaven's sake, when will that child arrive?' We should enlighten him on that point.”