"'"What makes you think I'm an admiral, my man?" he answers.
"'"Well," I says, lounging over on one foot reflective like, "nobody could be a-viewin' the sea with that lovin', ownership look unless he'd bossed her a bit…. If I'm right, Admiral, you takes the chair."
"'He laughed, but he got in. "I'm not an admiral," he said, "but it is true that I've followed the sea."'
"The hobo paused, and put up his first and second fingers spread like a
V.
"'Two points, Governor—the gent had been a sailor and a soldier; now how about the tanner business?'
"He scratched his head, moving the ridiculous cap.
"'That sort of puzzled me, and I pussyfooted along toward the Inlet thinkin' about it. If a man was a tanner, and especially a foreign, hand-workin' tanner, what would his markin's be?
"'I tried to remember everybody that I'd ever seen handlin' a hide, and all at once I recollected that the first thing a dago shoemaker done when he picked up a piece of leather was to smooth it out with his thumbs. An' I said to myself, now that'll be what a tanner does, only he does it more … he's always doing it. Then I asks myself what would be the markin's?'
"The hobo paused, his mouth open, his head twisted to one side. Then he jerked up as under a released spring.
"'And right away, Governor, I got the answer to it—flat thumbs!'