!

The ride was made amidst a silence that proved to be a wet blanket to
all my attempts to be jovial, and light-hearted and devil-may-care.
The Swede slumped in one seat, with our dunnage piled by his side,
wheezing profanely as the lurching of the hack over the cobblestones
jolted the sea-bags against him, and grunting at my efforts to make
conversation. Newman sat by my side. Once he spoke.

"You are sure the lady sails, Swede?" was what he said.

"_Ja_, I have it vrom Swope, himself," the crimp replied.

Now, of course, I had already reasoned it out that Newman was sailing
in the _Golden Bough_ because of the lady aft, and that he had once
owned some other name than "Newman." That was as plain as the nose on
my face. I didn't bother my head about it; the man's reasons were his
own, and foc'sle custom said that a shipmate should be judged by his
acts, not by his past, or his motives. But I did bother my head about
his question in the hack--or rather about the Swede's manner of
replying to it. It was a little thing, but very noticeable to a sailor.

The Swede's manner towards me was one of genial condescension, like a
father towards an indulged child. This was a proper bearing for a
powerful crimp to adopt towards a foremost hand. But the Swede's
manner towards Newman was different. There was respect in it, as
though he were talking to some skipper. It considerably increased the
feeling of awe I was beginning to have for my stern shipmate.

I supposed we would join the rest of the crew at the dock, and go on
board in orthodox fashion, on a tug, with drugged and drunken men lying
around, to be met at the rail by the mates, and dressed down into the
foc'sle. Such was the custom of the port. But when we alighted at
Meigg's Wharf not a sailor or runner was in sight. A regiment of
roosting gulls was in lonely possession of the planking. The hack
rattled away; the Swede, bidding us gather up our dunnage and follow
him, waddled to the wharf edge, and disappeared over the string-piece.

"Why, where is the crew?" I asked of Newman. "You and I, alone, aren't
going to sail the ruddy packet?"

"They'll follow later," replied Newman. "The Swede is going to put us
two aboard. He's getting the boat free now."

I stopped stock still. The constant surprises were rapidly shocking me
sober, and this last one fairly took my breath for a moment. The Swede
was putting us on board!

Now, the King of Crimps didn