The nervous fellow looked at him, then took the book and examined it carefully.
“I see you ain’t got in no picket duty since you left the west coast,” he said.
“We could use a man on the line to-night.”
“Put me down, too,” said Rio. “I need a good sleep.”
“Yeah!” snapped the agent. “This ain’t Frisco, nor Portland, where they bat their scabby brains out. Here, the Company takes these fink bastards from the ship by car and leaves ’em in town. The boys make a few clap joints, meet the transportation and are brought back to the ship.” The agent licked his lips, showing perfect teeth, shining and yellow. “It’s silk—till they sail under.” He bit a fingernail and turned to another man.
Rio was growling when he and Martin left the Hall.
“That’s right,” agreed Martin. “They struck me midships once. They nearly sank me.”
“You know,” said Rio, angrily, “I like you. But for Christ’s sake, don’t give me your end of the sea! You’re about as salty as lard.”
“Yes, they nearly sank me,” he repeated. “The ship was listing fourteen degrees when the bos’n ran into the fo’c’sle in his dirty underwear. He danced the ise-odori with a bottle of Saki under one arm and an ordinary seaman under the other, on a deck that would have frozen grandmother’s mittens. Now Rio, do you figure yourself a deep water sailor? Because you’ve pulled in the log on a cold night and lashed barrels to a hatch with your butt to the wind—are you sure of the ocean?... Have you ever curled a sea egg around your elbow?—kissed a barracuda over black water?—raced a shark in a harbor full of battle-wagons dumping garbage, with your own boat forty feet away against the wind? Have you winked at a sea spider and made him shuffle backwards till his legs ruffled slow sand in your face?”
“Well,” said Rio, laughing, “I told you once you were the ‘part of.’”
They were back at Pier V7. Other men were concentrating from the Hall to relieve the day pickets.
“They brought in two cars full,” said a tall fellow who had been heading the day men. He turned to Rio. “You take care of the night gang. We’ll bring down coffee. The Company is usin’ black sedans—some of the blinds was down when they pulled in. A couple of cops is standin’ by the gate so you can’t do much there. But if you divide your gang and send half of ’em up the alley a ways, you can get a sign. Hop on the runnin’ board, an’ you know what to do. Another thing. All the deck officers walked out when we was paid off except the third mate. That’s one Company man I’d like to see you get. The finks may not get no leave to-night, but the _Leana_ don’t sail for four days. If we keep a good lookout, maybe we can get a couple of the bastards. That’s all, except don’t do no drinkin’.”