ly. You've adopted me, now, an' I'm
your grown-up son, an' you've got to listen to me. The Bronx is the
hotel for you--fine-soundin' name, ain't it? That's atmosphere. Folk'll
listen half to you an' more to your hotel. I tell you, you leaning back
in a big leather chair talkin' treasure with a two-bit cigar in your
mouth an' a twenty-cent drink beside you, why that's like treasure. They
just got to believe. An' if you'll come along now, sir, we'll trot out
an' buy them suit-cases."

Right bravely the Ancient Mariner drove to the Bronx in a taxi,
registered his "Charles Stough Greenleaf" in an old-fashioned hand, and
took up anew the activities which for years had kept him free of the poor-
farm. No less bravely did Dag Daughtry set out to seek work. This was
most necessary, because he was a man of expensive luxuries. His family
of Kwaque, Michael, and Cocky required food and shelter; more costly than
that was maintenance of the Ancient Mariner in the high-class hotel; and,
in addition, was his six-quart thirst.

But it was a time of industrial depression. The unemployed problem was
bulking bigger than usual to the citizens of San Francisco. And, as
regarded steamships and sailing vessels, there were three stewards for
every Steward's position. Nothing steady could Daughtry procure, while
his occasional odd jobs did not balance his various running expenses.
Even did he do pick-and-shovel work, for the municipality, for three
days, when he had to give way, according to the impartial procedure, to
another needy one whom three days' work would keep afloat a little
longer.

Daughtry would have put Kwaque to work, except that Kwaque was
impossible. The black, who had only seen Sydney from steamers' decks,
had never been in a city in his life. All he knew of the world was
steamers, far-outlying south-sea isles, and his own island of King
William in Melanesia. So Kwaque remained in the two rooms, cooking and
housekeeping for his master and caring for Michael and Cocky. All of
which was prison for Michael, who had been used to the run of ships, of
coral beaches and plantations.

But in the evenings, sometimes accompanied a few steps in the rear by
Kwaque, Michael strolled out with Steward. The multiplicity of man-gods
on the teeming sidewalks became a real bore to Michael, so that man-gods,
in general, underwent a sharp depreciation. But Steward, the particular
god of his fealty and worship, appreciated.