He came into the outer office of the great oil company, and through the
half-open door of his private office the new superintendent observed the
stimulating style of his entrance. Looking for work, no doubt of that,
but not looking like a man who was apologizing for it; and that in
itself was a joy to the new official.
No hesitating--"Please, sir, who is the gentleman,"--no timid waiting on
any languid understrapper's pleasure for this one. A short pause; his
dark eyes swept the room from wall to wall; his black head bent
respectfully and not without appreciation toward the pretty
stenographer; and then, before the leisurely office boy thought it time
to rise and ask what he wanted, he was at the rail-gate. And when the
gate did not at once swing open, he stepped lightly over it; and
singling out from all the furtively smiling males the head clerk, he
charged straight across the floor toward that important person's desk.
And the head clerk, who was also the head wit, took a peek at him
coming, and very politely said, "Pray be seated?" And, also very
politely, "From whence came you and what willst thou?"
The chuckling heads bobbed above the rows of desks. The head clerk
himself had to gaze window-ward to smother his smile.
"Gramercy, kind sir--"
"Gramercy? Eh, what? Gramercy?"
"Gramercy Park--you know where Gramercy Park is? Or didn't you ask me
where I came from?"
"Oh-h-Oh-h, yes."
"Of course, and I'm after a berth as pump-man on your oil ship sailing
to-day for the Gulf."
"And what, may I ask, do you know of our class of ships?"
"Only what I've heard--most modern oil-tankers afloat, and I'd like to
try one out--and sail the Gulf again, if you'll give me the chance."
"M-m--what are your qualifications?"
"Qualifications? For pump-man on an oil-tanker?"
"Pump-man--yes. And on an oil-tanker. I'm not hiring a rough rider, or a
policeman, or an aeroplanist--just a pump-man."
Through his open door the new superintendent caught the wink which his
head clerk directed at the second clerk. And caught it so easily that
the thought came to him that to share in the humor of the head clerk
may have been one of the recreations of his predecessor.
"What has been your experience with marine machinery? What were your
last three or four places?"
"My last three or four? Well, one was being second-assistant engineer on
a government collier from the Philippines with a denaturalized skipper,
and for purser a slick up-state New Yorker; and both of 'em at the old
game--grafting off the grub allowance. And that's bad."
"Eh--what's bad?"
"Grafting off the grub. Men quit a ship for poor grub quicker than they
do for poor pay. For a week after we hit San Francisco I didn't get any
further away from the dining-room of the nearest hotel--well, than"--he
turned suddenly--"than that fellow there is from here--that fat,
knock-kneed chap there who seems to have so much to say about me." The
second clerk, who was also the second head wit, yelped like a suddenly
squelched concertina and was quiet.
The new-comer, after a grave study of the knock-kneed one's person,
resumed his narrative. "Then oiler on a cattle steamer. Ever been on a
cattleman?"
"Huh!" The head clerk was scowling tremendously.
"No? You ought to try one sometime. Some are all right, but some
are"--he looked sidewise at the stenographer--"well, no matter. One
night two sweet-tempered, light-complexioned coal-passers hit me
together, one with a shovel, the other with a slice-bar. It was the
slice-bar, I think, that got me. I didn't see it coming--or going
either--but probably it was the slice-bar." He bent his neck and parted
the heavy black hair. A white welt showed through the hair.
The head clerk flashed an enlightening wink toward the second head
clerk; but the second clerk, seeming to be less interested than
formerly, the wink was flashed over to the stenographer; but as she,
too, seemed preoccupied, the head clerk, rather less buoyantly,
inquired, "And what did you do to the two coal-passers?"
"For what I did to them--after I came to--I had to jump into the Mersey
and swim ashore. British justice, you know. Inflexible!--especially to a
foreigner who cracks a couple of domestic skulls."
"And then?"
"English navy."
The head clerk began to flash again. "And what, may I arsk, was
wrong--haw, haw!--wrong with the sair-vice?"
The new-comer almost smiled. "The grub, for one thing. My word, the
grub! Blow me for a bleedin' Dutchman, but I couldn't go the grub;
y'know. An' a man's a man, with a man's 'eart an' feelin's, even if
'e's nowt but a sailor, ain't he now? You're bloody well right 'e is.
But I took a fall out of a submarine before I quit. 'Ave you seen
'em--the little black chaps wot goes down an' comes up like bloomin'
little poppusses?"
The head clerk unobtrusively relapsed into his every-day speech. "And
weren't they exciting enough for you?"
"The one I was in was. But you see, sir, she sunk one d'y an' all 'ands
with 'er."
"Evidently you didn't sink with her. Or maybe you're amphibious?"
"Amphibious? Oh, I s'y now, but that's a good one. My word! But you was
jokin', wasn't you, sir? Of course you was. No, hi 'appened to be ashore
that d'y, sir. A mistike, sir, you see. But such a turn of wit as you
'ave, sir!"
The head clerk suddenly shed his smile. "Never mind about my wit. What
then? You deserted?"
"Not hexactly, sir. I was hofficially dead, sir. Ought to 'ave been at
the bottom, sir. O yes, sir. An' when I comes along an' declares myself,
they said I was a himposter--himposin' on honest people, sir--mikin' a
'ero o' myself, sir, as bein' the only man to escipe, sir. An' so I
comes aw'y--in a 'urry, sir. But if I was married, sir, my widow could
'ave 'ad 'er pension, sir. Yes, sir, 'er pension."
"That's a queer thing."
"Do you think so, sir?"
The head clerk unexpectedly bounced up and down in his chair. "See here,
don't imagine you can make fun of me, because you can't."
"Now don't get grouchy. When you pull out a cigar and start to light it,
don't blame a man looking on if he thinks you don't object to smoking.
Anyhow, after my navy experience I came back home and landed on an East
River tug. Said I struck the busy season. Must have struck a busy
concern, too. From daylight to ten, eleven at night--once in a while a
night lapping over. Nothing doing but work. I don't mind work, but this
indulging a lawless passion for it--not for mine. I've had three months
of that, and I think I'm due for a change. And don't you think that's
enough autobiography to qualify me for pump-man on an oil-tanker?"
The head clerk yawned prodigiously, and hummed, and whistled, looked out
of the window, and by and by found time to say, "you can leave your
name. And sometime possibly"--and just then the buzzer clicked, and the
applicant saw him disappear into the private office.
* * * * *
It was only the new superintendent's second day, and to the head clerk
he still seemed an unaggressive sort, not much to look at, and, so far,
not much to say. A clever man ought to be able to handle him. And yet,
as the head clerk was crossing the floor of the private office, the eye
of the new superintendent never looked away. Yes, he did have a puzzling
eye.
"Close the door, Mr. Grump. Why not ship that man for that berth? He
seems competent."
"The captain of the _Rapidan_ said he had a man in mind for the place,
sir."
"M-h-h. And something of a martinet, isn't he, this _Rapidan_ captain?"
"Something, sir."
"M-h-h. But even so, he probably won't object to my naming one man of
his crew. And I would like it if you would sign this man."
"The captain of the _Rapidan_ has always selected all his own crew,
sir." The head clerk had rested both hands, with fingers spread, on his
chief's desk. His chief making no reply, the head clerk added: "And he
rather resents interference from the office."
The superintendent was playing idly with a paper knife. His gaze seemed
to be directed to the lower buttons of his head clerk's waistcoat.
"Interference?" he repeated. "Interference? Mr. Grump, you have a
reputation for humor, or so I judge. I've been listening to you trying
to bedevil that man out there, but I'm afraid your humor is a little on
the slap-stick order. And so"--the superintendent raised his head--"if
I use a club on you, instead of the point of a rapier, I hope you won't
think I do it out of natural brutality."
Their eyes met. The head clerk straightened from shoulder to heel. "And
now, this is not a request; it is an order: Sign that man."
"Yes, sir."
"And Mr. Grump, why did you ask all those questions of a man you had no
notion of shipping?"
"Why, sir, I meant no harm by that, sir. All kinds come here looking for
berths on our ships, and some of them are rather queer ones, you know,
sir, and we like to have a little fun with them."
"Have fun with that man? I wish I had your intellectual nerve."
"You know him, sir? If I had known--"
"I don't know him. I saw him and listened to him, as you did. But let me
tell you something, Mr. Grump. You're paid $5,000 a year here, and
presumably you know your business. I get several times that. Presumably
I, too, know my business. But when you or I reach a stage where we can
have fun with that man out there, then you and I won't have to rest
content with our relatively subordinate and unimportant executive
positions in the Northern and Southern Oil Company."
"Subordinate positions, sir!"
"Exactly. And Mr. Grump?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why is it that good men don't seem to stay long on some of our ships,
especially on the _Rapidan_?"
"I couldn't say, sir."
"No? Too bad you didn't take the trouble to find out during all the
years you've been here. Possibly I can find out. I'll take passage on
the _Rapidan_ this trip. But say nothing about it to anybody, mind. If
the captain wishes to know something more of his passenger, say that it
is a friend of the third or fourth vice-president, or of one of the
directors, or of the office boy's, or the stenographer's, or anybody at
all, taking a little sea trip for his health. And his name--" He picked
up the telephone directory, inserted the blade of the paper knife,
opened the book, and laid the knife across the page. "Noyes. Noyes
sounds all right. Tell him the passenger's name is Noyes. And that's all
for now, except that you sign that man."
"Yes, sir." The reorganized head clerk clicked his heels, wheeled,
marched to his desk, and without delay signed John Kieran as pump-man
for the Gulf voyage of the oil ship _Rapidan_.