“What is it you want now? If it’s concerning money, or business, or the growed-up side of life, run along and don’t disturb the carousals of a sailorman. If it’s a fight, lemme get my hat.”
“I want you to wake up your fireman and have steam on the tug in an hour, then wait for me below the bridge. You’re chartered for twenty-four hours, and—remember, not a word.”
“I’m on! Compared to me the Spinks of Egyp’ is as talkative as a phonograph.”
The old man next turned his steps to the Northern Theatre. The performance was still in progress, and he located the man he was hunting without difficulty.
Ascending the stairs, he knocked at the door of one of the boxes and called for Captain Stephens.
“I’m glad I found you, Cap,” said he. “It saved me a trip out to your ship in the dark.”
“What’s the matter?”
Dextry drew him to an isolated corner. “Me an’ my partner want to send a man to the States with you.”
“All right.”
“Well—er—here’s the point,” hesitated the miner, who rebelled at asking favors. “He’s our law sharp, an’ the McNamara outfit is tryin’ to put the steel on him.”