“Yes, gentlemen, that is what I am,” said the cabman. “You know I’ve been in trouble, and I don’t deny but what I struck the blow, and where was I to get evidence of my provocation? So I turned to and took a cab, and I’ve driven one for three year now, and nobody the wiser.”
“I beg your pardon,” said Carthew, joining almost for the first time, “I’m a new chum. What was the charge?”
“Murder,” said Captain Wicks, “and I don’t deny but what I struck the blow. And there’s no sense in my trying to deny I was afraid to go to trial, or why would I be here? But it’s a fact it was flat mutiny. Ask Billy here. He knows how it was.”
Carthew breathed long; he had a strange, half-pleasurable sense of wading deeper in the tide of life. “Well,” said he, “you were going on to say?”
“I was going on to say this,” said the captain sturdily. “I’ve overheard what Mr. Hadden has been saying, and I think he talks good sense. I like some of his ideas first chop. He’s sound on traderooms; he’s all there on the traderoom, and I see that he and I would pull together. Then you’re both gentlemen, and I like that,” observed Captain Wicks. “And then I’ll tell you I’m tired of this cabbing cruise, and I want to get to work again. Now, here’s my offer. I’ve a little money I can stake up—all of a hundred, anyway. Then my old firm will give me trade, and jump at the chance; they never lost by me; they know what I’m worth as supercargo. And, last of all, you want a good captain to sail your ship for you. Well, here I am. I’ve sailed schooners for ten years. Ask Billy if I can handle a schooner.”
“No man better,” said Billy.
“And as for my character as a shipmate,” concluded Wicks, “go and ask my old firm.”
“But, look here!” cried Hadden, “how do you mean to manage? You can whisk round in a hansom and no questions asked; but if you try to come on a quarter-deck, my boy, you’ll get nabbed.”
“I’ll have to keep back till the last,” replied Wicks, “and take another name.”
“But how about clearing? What other name?” asked Tommy, a little bewildered.