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Updated: August 16, 2024
Harvey, Dan, and the others stood back, winking one to the other and full of joy; but Disko and Salters wrangled seriously till evening, Salters arguing that a cattle-boat was practically a barn on blue water, and Disko insisting that, even if this were the case, decency and fisher-pride demanded that he should have kept "things sep'rate."
Let me go to Molokai. And he went, without losing an hour, for a cattle-boat was sailing that very day for the island of the outcasts. Every Monday a small steamer left Honolulu for Molokai, bearing any fresh cases of leprosy that had broken out since the departure of the last boat.
Have you sat through seven days of horrors without realizing that?" Mac had once gone to Europe on a liner, and, having exhausted his funds, returned on a cattle-boat. "All the captains I ever knew," he said largely, "were a fussy lot dressed to kill, and navigating the boat from the head of a dinner-table. But I suppose you know.
You come up to see me, didn't you? You're m' friend, ain't you, eh? I got an awful hang-over, ain't I? You don't care, do you, ol' Wrenn?" Mr. Wrenn stared at him weakly, but only for a minute. Perhaps it was his cattle-boat experience which now made him deal directly with such drunkenness as would have nauseated him three months before; perhaps his attendance on a weary Istra.
A reflective carter, who had been twisting two straws, ambled out of the shadow of the stable and prepared to do battle. "Say, old man, can't we sleep in your hay just to-night?" argued Morton. "We're Americans. Came over on a cattle-boat. We ain't got only enough money to last us for food," while Mr. Wrenn begged, "Aw, please let us." "Oh! You're Americans, are you? You seem decent enough.
He arrived at his room on Tavistock Place about eleven, and tried to think for the rest of the night of how deeply he was missing Morton of the cattle-boat now that now that he had no friend in all the hostile world. In a London A. B. C. restaurant Mr.
"Oh yes.... How is it you aren't out sight-seeing? Or is it blessedly possible that you aren't a tripper a tourist?" "Why, I dunno." He hunted uneasily for the right answer. "Not exactly. I tried a stunt coming over on a cattle-boat." "That's good. Much better." She sat silent while, with enormous and self-betraying pains to avoid detection, he studied her firm thin brilliantly red lips.
The cattle-boat had few facilities for comfort, and all he could do was to let Mr. Bernard Underwood lie, as softly as could be contrived, on deck, and make sail for Ewmouth, so as to land him as near home as possible.
Wrenn felt lonely at finding himself so completely outside Morton's own world that he was not thought of. He hastened to claim a part in that world: "Say, Mr. Morton, I wonder if you've ever heard of a cattle-boat called the Merian?" "I Say! Is this Bill Wrenn?" "Yes." "Well, well, well! Where areyou? When'd you get back?" "Oh, I been back quite a little while, Morty.
He almost snarled, so weary and discouraged was he. Now, Trubiggs was a warm-hearted rogue, and he liked the society of what he called "white people." He laughed, poked a Pittsburg stogie at Mr. Wrenn, and consented: "All right. I'll fix you up. Have a smoke. Pay me the five Friday, or pay it to my foreman when he puts you on the cattle-boat. I don't care a rap which. You're all right.
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