“No. We’re agents for Stackhouse. By the way, he’s aboard the Jade—just left the office a half hour ago. The Hatmos son and heir went home in a cab, like his father used to, when Stackhouse blew in from the South Seas——”
“The big man who stood aft as the ship cleared?” Bellair suggested.
“Hairy neck—clothes look like pajamas?”
“Yes.”
“That must have been Stackhouse. He’s the biggest man in Peloponasia——”
Bellair wondered if he meant Polynesia. “You mean in size?”
“Possibly that, but I meant—interests. Owns whole islands and steam-fleets, but hates steam. Does his pleasure riding under canvas. Comes up to New York every third year with a new Japanese wife. Used to spend his time drinking with old Hatmos—now he’s trying to kill off the younger generation. Lives at the Florimel while in New York, and teaches the dago barboys how to make tropical drinks. If he had stayed longer, he would have got to me. Young Hatmos is about finished.”
Bellair breathed deeply, strangely alive. “Where does the Jade call first after leaving here?”
“Savannah—then one or two South American ports—then around the Horn and the long up-beat to the Islands.”
“Why, that might mean four months.” Bellair spoke with a touch of wistfulness.