"Got a hog-yoke, I see," he said, "Be ye a mate?"
I told him I had been.
"Well, sink me, my boy, that's just what I am aboard here, and they'll be looking for another to match me. I saw what ye were when I first raised ye coming along the dock, and sez I, ye're just my size, my bully."
As he could have walked under my arm when extended horizontally, I saw he had no poor opinion of himself. However, his words conveyed a ray of hope.
"Is the mate with the skipper?" I asked.
"The second mate is, yep; but he won't raise bail. The old man might though, quien sabe? The agents will hail us to-night and settle matters, for we're on the load line and nigh steved. We can't wait."
I reflected a moment. Here was a possible chance for a mate's berth, and perhaps the skipper would not get bail, after all. In that case I thought I could hardly manage better, for my fear of the little mate was not overpowering. I was not exactly of a timid nature,—a man seldom rises to be mate of a deep-water ship who is,—but I always dreaded a brutal skipper on account of his absolute authority at sea, where there is no redress. I had once been mixed up in an affair concerning the disappearance of one, on a China trader—but no matter. The affair in hand was tempting and I waited developments.
The little mate saw my course and laid his accordingly.
"S'pose you come around about knock-off time. The agents will be along about then—Sauers and Co.; you know them; and I'll fix the thing for you."
"All right," I said, and after a little conversation relating to the merits of various ships, the Pirate in particular, I left and made my way back to my lodgings.