"No," said Jackson, "you wouldn't expect a thing like that from Captain Cone—that's right."
"No, you expect sentiment from the thin, poetical, big-eyed, tender men, the men who slush and slobber it over at all occasions. You find women looking for it in the tender talkers, the soft-spoken, the amorous—oh, hell! did you ever see a man who looked the part—what?"
"I've sometimes had my doubts concerning heroes," said Johnson, "but they are—the real ones—generally most common-looking, most quiet and unassuming; but that Cone—well, he is a hard dose to swallow, and that's a fact."
"Well, treat him decently when he comes back," said Simpson.
Some years later I met Cone at the dinner given by the Manager of the Southern Fruit Company to the Captains of the West India fleet who ran the steamers chartered under contract to fill the winter schedule. There were as usual many British vessels in the trade, some Norwegian and a few American, including myself.
Cone had passed entirely out of my ken and this time I took his hand with the feeling that perhaps I had done the man an injustice by the human judgment passed upon him. He was a very old man now and his hand was still in a glove to hide the deformity which the accident had caused. He looked very much the kindly old-time shipmaster, bright of eye and vigorous to the last. He sat near me and remained silent during the opening of the somewhat formal repast. The Manager had been discussing some subject, for he seemed to wish to follow it at once.
"A thing's either right or wrong," said the Manager didactically, as he looked over the gathering. He paused for the effect of his words to be felt. He loved platitudes, although the leading man in his business and a millionaire. "A thing is either right or wrong," he repeated, "and a man is either right or wrong. There's a difference between them as plain as between black and white."
Captain Cone squirmed in his chair. He had listened to this sort of thing before from the Manager. The Company, the greatest shipping firm in the whole world, had paid him his salary, given him his liner and here was the Manager setting forth again against the manner of trusted employees who should know these self-evident truths. He interrupted.
"In fifty-five years spent knocking about the world upon every sea, I've come to a different conclusion," said he quietly.