“My boy,” he said, “I have been on the Pacific and on the Atlantic, on Baffins Bay and in the Behring Sea, in the Gulf of Korea and the Bay of Biscay, but I must say that all these at their worst are not a circumstance to the Black Sea. I can’t estimate the percentage of risk, but will say I shall consider you playing in great luck if you get back.”
What could I do? My hand was forced, and I had told my paper that I was going, and I had the British dispatches, so I signed the charter. When I returned to the hotel I found Morris with a Greek he had hired to cook for us. The Greek’s name was Stomati; but more of him anon. I sent him down to the France with the provisions that he and Morris had been gleefully buying all the morning. When he had gone I sat down and looked at my faithful chief of staff. From my Secretary, he was now the Chief Steward of my private yacht. In the servant’s dining room he had risen to be the leading social light. Even the chattering French maids held their tongues while Morris, with great dignity, held forth on European and Far Eastern politics. Now it happened that at this time there was in Constantinople a delegation of negroes from Abyssinia that had come up from their torrid country to get some loan out of the sultan. The valet of the head of this delegation heard Morris discourse and was amazed at his glib utterances, and reported the same to his master, with the result that Morris was soon hobnobbing with the Abyssinian princelings, who finally invited him to come down to their country and engage in building, railroads and other minor enterprises. Morris, never abashed, said he thought he could raise $2,000,000 from the colored people of America, who wished to carry out these little enterprises, but stated that for the moment he was pressed for time, but as soon as he had a little more leisure would give the matter his attention. The servants were greatly impressed by all this, and whenever he passed they would stand reverently aside, salute, and speak in awed whispers of this Ethiopian capitalist, who shed the radiance of his presence upon them. Morris certainly worked his position for all there was in it.
After I had listened to all the evidence of the shipping men that morning, I really felt very apprehensive about our chances on the Black Sea trip, and it seemed to me that the least I could do was to tell Morris what I had been told, and give him the option of avoiding the risk if the adventure was not to his liking. So I told him that I had been talking over the Black Sea proposition with some shipping people.
“It seems it is a pretty bad place,” I said, “and these fellows here are willing to lay bets that we won’t get back to Constantinople. What do you think about it?”
“All right! Fine business,” he replied with a grin, not in the least perturbed. I thought I would put it in plain words, so I said:
“The fact is, Morris, two large steamers have been sunk within ten days, trying to get into the Bosphorus, and they do say here that the France is too small for December seas, and in a word, that we will never get to Odessa anyway, much less ever come back to Constantinople.” This sobered Morris a little, and he stopped grinning. “I don’t want to urge you to go,” I continued. “I have told you all I know about the situation. Personally, I don’t think it is as bad as they say, but, as a matter of fact, I do think we take a pretty big risk, and if you have any particular reasons for wanting to get home, you want to think about it now. I can give you your wages to date and your fare to Kansas City. Now it’s up to you. What do you want to do?” He walked to the window and looked out for perhaps a minute. Then he came back.
“What are you going to do?” he said.
“My hand is forced,” I replied. “I have wired my paper that I leave to-night. I am going anyway.”
“All right,” said Morris. “If you go, I go.”
“That settles it,” I replied. “Pack up and have everything aboard by six o’clock to-night.”