with the bamboo rafters,
where the tiny lizards prowled in the dust and hunted flies.

The roar of the docks surged through dull and confused, a medley of
clanking hatch-covers, complaining tackle, deep-throated protests
of donkey-engines, outlandish commands from stevedores, and the
yelps of high-strung little tugs bossing the lighters.

Vanderzee pottered at his books behind the bar, smoking a china
pipe. His watchful eye was on his Chinese boy polishing the
brasswork of the taps. The last of the noon idlers had gone, and
the door leading to the Mole was shut against the hot breeze
lifting from the sun's glare on the river.

Then a beam of light whipped across the floor with a shuffle of
feet on the stone steps outside. Captain Dinshaw tottered in,
gasping for breath and shaking with excitement.

"Van!" he cried, weakly, making for the bar. "I'm rich!"

The black man grunted, and put his pipe in his mouth, staring past
Dinshaw at the door as if he expected to see a pursuing party burst
in and attack the old man, who seemed spent from running.

"Who's der drouble?" he growled. "For v'y you roon?"

"I've hauled the wind!" cried Dinshaw, dropping his parcel on the
bar, and throwing up his hands in a gesture of wild delight.

"My luck's turned! I'm a rich man, I tell ye!"

"Vell," remarked Vanderzee with stolid calm. "If you puy a monkey
in some oder blaces, don'd pring him here to me. You vant me
droubles to haff der bolice mit, hey? A few trinks you get, der sun
your het in, und--dronk der Cuartel in und my license I loose
maype."

"I'll make ye rich!" persisted Dinshaw, in his high-pitched,
quivering voice, and giving no heed to the admonitions of the black
man and not in the least disconcerted by the lack of welcome. "I'm
goin' to my island!"

"Der more kvicker, der more petter," said Vanderzee, and humped his
shoulders up with a convulsive shrug. "Maype you prink it back und
anchor it off der lighthouse, hey?"

"Jarrow'll take me in the _Nuestra_," continued Dinshaw, now as if
talking to himself. "I'll be rich and have good soup for supper.
I've got the tide this time, an' no mistake. It's turned for me, as
I allus said it would, and Jarrow'll head out for my island. I tell
ye, man, it's all settled. Have ye seen Jarrow?"

"Charrow petter nod see you. Crassy you iss."

"He'll want to see me, an' don't forget," said Dinshaw, wagging his
head. "Jarrow's the man for me and----"

The _tapa_ curtains