The soft job man on the cabin skylight looked at the newcomers.

“Where’s your cyard?” said he.

Hank presented the card. “Now then,” said Hank, “if you’re not stuck to that skylight with cobbler’s wax, hoist yourself and get busy. I’m going right all over her, cabin first. Come along.”

He led the way down.

The saloon of the Wear Jack had plenty of head32 room, six feet four or so; there were bunks on either side and a cabin aft shut off by a bird’s-eye maple door. The upholstering was in crimson, crimson plush, and the table was of mahogany. Everything was of the best and little the worse for wear, but over everything was the gloom of the murdered sunlight, filtering in through the filthy skylight and the grimy portholes. Hank opened the door of the after cabin.

32

“Pretty musty, ain’t it?” said Jake. “I kyan’t get it right, nohow. You could grow mushrooms on that bunk with the damp, though where it comes from, search me. Ain’t sea damp, it’s damp that seems to have got in the wood. The wood sweats when the weather’s a bit warm. Smells like an old cheese.”

“Well, I ain’t buying a scent factory,” said Hank.

“Oh, buyin’ her, are you?” said Jake, “buyin’ her.” He said nothing more, but followed as Hank led the way out of the saloon. They inspected the lavatory and bath, the galley, and then they came to the auxiliary engine, for the Wear Jack boasted an auxiliary engine, a neat little Kelvin paraffin engine in a canvas jacket.

“Does the engine run?” asked Hank of the soft job man.

“Run,” said Jake. “Well the last time I heard of it runnin’, it run off its bed plates. That’s the yarn I got from one of the chaps that were in her on her last cruise—but maybe it’s a lie.”

33

33

“Now look here,” said Hank, “you deal straight with me and I’ll deal straight with you to the tune of five dollars. I don’t want to buy old junk. Is there anything wrong with this ship?” He nudged George as he spoke.

“Well,” said Jake, “I oughtn’t to be talking, I s’pose, I’m put here to show her to parties, but I haven’t swore to say nothing; anything wrong with her? Why she’s all wrong, the sticks are carrots and the plankin’s mush, 

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