"That's just what I mean. Something better, see? This skipper," he added, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "he no good! But he got a paper from me, you understand, for a year, so I can't do nothin'."
"What about me?" said Mr. Spokesly, rather to his own surprise. "Do I get a paper, too?"
"Only one trip," countered Mr. Dainopoulos. "You go one trip and I'll fix you for a beeg ship."
"Well, I can't do any better, and going home may be a wash-out," mused Mr. Spokesly. "I'll get some clothes."
"You go to a friend o' mine and he'll get you everything. Here's the number. Jean Tjimiski Street. You better get uniform, see, and wear all the time. Better than plain clothes. Plenty trouble goin' aboard ship without uniform. And then you come to my house."
"I was going to the Olympos," began Mr. Spokesly.
"Too dear! Olympos no good," hastily began Mr. Dainopoulos who was not at all anxious to have an employee of his drawn into conversation by the people who lived at the Olympos. "You come to my house. I will speak to the officer who buy the stores from me and he will be glad if captain and mate both English, you understand. That all right?" And he patted Mr. Spokesly on the shoulder.
"You mean, come and stay with you?"
"Certainly. Why not? My wife, she likes you very much. And Miss Solaris, eh?"
"Well, I don't notice she likes me so very much. She tolerates me. I don't understand that girl, Mister."