“My present engineer I got in Glasgow,” said Mr. Hemster; “and as for stokers we have a mechanical stoker which answers the purpose reasonably well, although I have several improvements I am going to patent as soon as I get home. I believe the Scotchman I have as engineer is the best in the business. I wouldn’t interfere with him for the world.”
My heart sank, and I began to fear that Yansan and the sampan-boy would have to wait longer for their money. It seemed that it wasn’t my ship that had come in, after all.
“Very well, Mr. Hemster,” I said, “I must congratulate you on being so well suited. I am much obliged to you for receiving me so patiently without a letter of introduction on my part, and so I bid you good-day.”
I turned for the ladder, but Mr. Hemster said, with more of animation in his tone than he had hitherto exhibited:
“Wait a moment, sonny; don’t be so hasty. You’ve asked me a good many questions about the yacht and the crew, so I should like to put some to you, and who knows but we may make a deal yet. There’s the galley and the stewards, and that sort of thing, you know. Draw up a chair and sit down.”
I did as I was requested. Mr. Hemster threw his cigar overboard and took out another. Then he held out the case toward me, saying:
“Do you smoke?”
“Thank you,” said I, selecting a cigar.
“Have you matches?” he asked, “I never carry them myself.”
“No, I haven’t,” I admitted.
He pushed a button near him, and a Japanese steward appeared.
“Bring a box of matches and a bottle of champagne,” he said.
The steward set a light wicker table at my elbow, disappeared for a few minutes, and shortly returned with a bottle of champagne and a box of matches. Did my eyes deceive me, or was this the most noted brand in the world, and of the vintage of ’78? It seemed too good to be true.
“Would you like a sandwich or two with that wine, or is it too soon after lunch?”
“I could do with a few sandwiches,” I confessed, thinking of Yansan’s frugal fare; and shortly after there were placed before me, on a dainty, white, linen-and-lace-covered plate, some of the most delicious chicken sandwiches that it has ever been my fortune to taste.
“Now,” said Mr. Hemster, when the steward had disappeared, “you’re on your uppers, I take it.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Why, you’re down at bed-rock. Haven’t you been in America? Don’t you know the language?”
“‘Yes’ is the answer to all your questions.”
“What’s the reason? Drink? Gambling?”
Lord, how good that champagne tasted! I laughed from the pure, dry exhilaration of it.
“I wish I could say it was drink that brought me to this pass,” I answered; “for this champagne shows it would be a tempting road to ruin. I am not a gambler, either. How I came to this pass would not interest you.”
“Well, I take it that’s just an Englishman’s way of saying it’s none of my business; but such is not the fact. You want a job, and you have come to me for it. Very well; I must know something about you. Whether I can give you a job or not will depend. You have said you could captain the ship or run her engines. What makes you so confident of your skill?”
“The fact is I possessed a yacht of my own not so very long ago, and I captained her and I ran her engines on different occasions.”
“That might be a recommendation, or it might not. If, as captain, you wrecked your vessel, or if, as engineer, you blew her up, these actions would hardly be a certificate of competency.”
“I did neither. I sold the yacht in New York for what it would bring.”
“How much money did you have when you bought your yacht?”
“I had what you would call half a million.”
“Why do you say what I would call half a million? What would you call it?”
“I should call it a hundred thousand.”
“Ah, I see. You’re talking of pounds, and I’m talking of dollars. You’re an Englishman, I suspect. Are you an educated man?”
“Moderately so. Eton and Oxford,” said I, the champagne beginning to have its usual effect on a hungry man. However, the announcement of Eton and Oxford had no effect upon Mr. Hemster, so it did not matter.
“Come, young fellow,” he said, with some impatience, “tell me all about yourself, and don’t have to be drawn out like a witness on the stand.”
“Very well,” said I, “here is my story. After I left Oxford I had some little influence, as you might call it.”
“No, a ‘pull,’ I would call it. All right, where did it land you?”
“It landed me as secretary to a Minister of the Crown.”
“You don’t mean a preacher?”
“No, I mean the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and he put me into the diplomatic service when he found the Government was going to be defeated. I was secretary of legation at Pekin and also here in Japan.”
I filled myself another glass of champagne, and, holding it up to see the sparkles, continued jauntily:
“If I may go so far as to boast, I may say I was entrusted with several delicate missions, and I carried them through with reasonable success. I can both read and write the Japanese language, and I know a smattering of Chinese and a few dialects of the East, which have stood me in good stead more than once. To tell the truth, I was in a fair way for promotion and honor when unfortunately a relative died and left me the hundred thousand pounds that I spoke of.”
“Why unfortunately? If you had had any brains you could have made that into millions.”
“Yes, I suppose I could. I thought I was going to do it. I bought myself a yacht at Southampton and sailed for New York. To make a long story short, it was a gold mine and a matter of ten weeks which were taken up with shooting and fishing in Canada. Then I had the gold mine and the experience, while the other fellow had the cash. He was good enough to pay me a trifle for my steam yacht, which, as the advertisements say, was ‘of no further use to the owner.’”
As I sipped my champagne, the incidents I was relating seemed to recede farther and farther back and become of little consequence. In fact I felt like laughing over them, and although in sober moments I should have called the action of the man who got my money a swindle, under the influence of dry ’78 his scheme became merely a very clever exercise of wit. Mr. Hemster was looking steadily at me, and for once his cigar was almost motionless.
“Well, well,” he murmured, more to himself than to me, “I have always said the geographical position of New York gives it a tremendous advantage over Chicago. They never let the fools come West. They have always the first whack at the moneyed Englishman, and will have until we get a ship canal that will let the liners through to Chicago direct. Fleeced in ten weeks! Well, well! Go on, my son. What did you do after you’d sold your yacht?”
“I took what money I had and made for the West.”
“Came to Chicago?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Just our luck. After you had been well buncoed you came to Chicago. I swear I’m tempted to settle in New York when I get back.”
“By the West I do not mean Chicago, Mr. Hemster. I went right through to San Francisco and took a steamer for Japan. I thought my knowledge of the East and of the languages might be of advantage. I was ashamed to return to England when I found I could make no headway here. I tried to bring influence to bear to get reinstated in