the
young man, with a smile.

"What I mean is, he may have something in his kit that he can use to
paint you with. What's your idea--stay there? I'm afraid they'll nail
you." >

"I'll stay there just long enough to ship before the mast on a schooner.
There isn't time to think up any better plan just now. Anything to keep
out of sight until I can make up my mind about what's really best to be
done."

"We'll have that cook up here," offered the captain. "He's safe."

The cook took prompt and professional interest in the matter. "Sure!" he
said. "I've got a stain that will sink in and stay put for a long time,
if no grease paint is used. Only you mustn't wash your face."

"There's no danger of a fellow having any inducement to do that when
he's before the mast on a schooner in these days," declared the tug
captain, dryly.

An hour later, Captain Boyd Mayo, late of the crack liner _Montana_,
was a very passable mulatto, his crisply curling hair adding to the
disguise. He swapped his neat suit of brown with a deck-hand, and
received some particularly unkempt garments.

The next night, when the tug was berthed at the water station, he
slipped off into the darkness, as homeless and as disconsolate as an
abandoned dog.

XXII ~ SPECIAL BUSINESS OF A PASSENGER

O Ranzo was no sailor,
He shipped on board a whaler.
O pity Reuben Ran-zo, Ran-zo, boys!
O poor old Reuben Ranzo, Ranzo, boys!
--Reuben Ranzo.

Captain Mayo kept out of the region of the white lights for some time.
He had a pretty wide acquaintance in the Virginia port, and he knew the
beaten paths of the steamboating transients, ashore for a bit of a blow.

He lurked in alleys, feeling especially disreputable. He was not at
all sure that his make-up was effective. His own self-consciousness
convinced him that he was a glaring fraud, whose identity would be
revealed promptly to any person who knew him. But while he sneaked in
the purlieus of the city several of his 'longshore friends passed him
without a second look. One, a second engineer on a Union line freighter,
whirled after passing, and came back to him.

"Got a job, boy?"

"No, sir."

"We need coal-passers on the _Drummond_. She's in the stream. Come
aboard in the morning."

But it was not according to Mayo's calculation, messing with steamboat
men. "Ah doan' conclude ah wants no sech job," he drawled.

"No, of course you don't want to work, yo