out's good's anybody in Wilkes."

"Humph!--boomer," the engineer grunted, and there was silence for a
moment. When next he spoke, his manner was kindly.

"Those niggers of mine skedaddled 'cause they're lazy and worthless.
But the stoke-hole is hell, all right. It ain't no place for a
youngster like you. I'll hustle round to the gin-mills an' get hold of
a pair of tough guys. But there's something else," he went on, as
Zeke's face fell. "If you can make sorghum molasses and moonshine
without scorchin' 'em, you'll fill the bill, I reckon. We cruise off
the coast for menhaddin--fat backs--for the oil in 'em. We carry
steam-jacket kettles. I've got a green man now who's no good. I'll
fire him and take you on. Thirty a month and your board--more
by-and-by, if you suit."

Zeke, elated at this opportunity, felt, nevertheless, that honesty
required of him some further explanation. But the engineer dismissed
consideration of the future.

"A month will give you enough for your fare to New York. If you ain't
pressed for time, a voyage will do you good. But don't let the captain
get a sight of that black bag, or it'll go overboard. Sailors are
afeared of 'em," he chuckled. "_The Neuse_, my old ship, ran into _The
Blanche_ off Creek Beacon, in a fog, and sunk her. We rescued officers
and crew, but the captain--Smith, his name was--couldn't stop cussin'
'cause he'd allowed a nigger mammy to go aboard as a passenger along
with her old black bag, which was the why of the wreck, 'cording to
his way of thinking. Took his friends nigh onto a year, to convince
him that _The Neuse_ was to blame for the collision. I suspect he'll
always have it on his conscience that he did finally collect damages
off our owners." The engineer chuckled again. "Stow your bag under
your bunk in the fore peak before the captain comes aboard."

_The Bonita_ was a stanchly built and seaworthy craft with a draft of
less than twelve feet under full cargo, which made possible her use of
the shorter and smoother inland water-way from Norfolk to Beaufort,
North Carolina, where was the factory. Zeke, who would remain idle
until the first catch of fish, went early to his bunk the first
evening aboard, wearied by the long and exciting day. He had, indeed,
scarce time to contemplate a guardian vision of Plutina ere his senses
were locked in slumber, and his next consciousness was of a dim
morning light struggling into the gloom of the stuffy peak, and the
jolting r