EVENING AT THE OYSTER PIER
On the way across the river every man in the crew had pulled off his
oilskins, and now all were ready to go ashore.
"Come along with me, Alec," said Captain Bagley as he scrambled over the
rail.
The _Bertha B's_ pier, and all the other piers, were covered for the
greater part of their length by an enormous roof sloping up to the
building that extended along the landward side of the piers. This
building, hundreds of feet in length, was tenanted by the various oyster
shippers. Each occupied a small section of it containing wareroom and
storage compartments on the pier level, and office rooms on the floor
above. At every pier little openings, like tiny tunnels, led through
this long building to the wide shipping platform on the farther side,
where the trains were loaded.
Captain Bagley entered one of these tunnel-like passages, but half-way
through he stepped into a little wareroom, nearly filled with sacked
oysters, and mounted some narrow wooden stairs. Alec followed close at
his heels. The stairs led to the office of Captain Rumford, and that
individual was sitting behind his desk, addressing shipping tags. He
looked up as Captain Bagley entered, said "Hello!" and went on
addressing tags. Captain Bagley sat down in a chair, by the pot-bellied
stove in the centre of the room, and motioned for Alec to occupy a
second chair.
On the walls were hung pictures of boats, gaudy advertising calendars of
oyster shippers and ship-chandlers, with models of oyster-boats, that
Alec found very interesting. Oilskins hung on pegs and long boots stood
in a corner, showing that Captain Rumford was as well prepared for bad
weather as any of his sailors. Alec rightly guessed that sometimes he
went along with his boats to the oyster grounds.
When Captain Rumford had finished his tags, he laid down his pen, turned
away from his desk, and tilted back in his chair. "Well, Bagley, how did
it go to-day?" he asked.
"Not so bad, not so bad," replied Captain Bagley, "everything
considered. Looked bad for a time, though. That Hawley got drunk last
night and snuk off after he'd had his breakfast. But this kid turned up
and took his place. Then old Hardy fouled us and broke his bowsprit, and
that held us up so long we got stuck on the bar. Every boat in the fleet
got hung up. Bar was clean out o' water. Made us late gettin' out. But
we got more than four hundred baskets at that. Not so bad, eh? Not so
bad."
"Good enough, Bagley. Who is the lad?"
"Name's Alec Cunningham," said Captain Bagley. "Alec, this is Captain
Rumford."
Alec sprang to his feet, stepped to the captain's side, and shook hands
with him.
He knew at once that he was going to like Captain Rumford. The captain's
glance seemed to bore right through Alec. He felt as though the captain
could read everything that was in his mind. But there was a kindly
expression about his face that won Alec instantly.
"Where do you come from?" asked Captain Rumford. "I never saw you around
here."
"He come from up in Pennsylvania," said Captain Bagley, "and he's a
nephew of my old buddy, Thomas Robinson, that was drowned when the _Mary
Ford's_ anchor purchase parted last spring. His parents is dead and he
come here to find his uncle. Hit here last night without a cent and
slept out on our pier in them oyster sacks. Darned wonder he didn't
freeze to death."
"That's a shame," exclaimed Captain Rumford, "with so many bunks around
here he could have slept in. Why, there's half a dozen in this office."
"It didn't hurt me any," laughed Alec, "but it was cold." And a little
shiver ran down his back at the recollection of his chilly bed.
"Wonder where Hawley got his booze," said Captain Rumford presently. "He
was a pretty good man, wasn't he? What are you going to do with him?"
"Yes. He was a good worker, but I ain't got time to fool with that kind
o' cattle. I'll tell him to go aboard and get his things. I've got to
have men I can depend on."
Captain Rumford arose and began to pull on his overcoat. "Time to be
getting home," he said. "Just a word with you, Bagley, before I go." He
entered an inner room, followed by his ship captain. "Does this young
chap intend to become an oysterman?" asked the shipper.
"I don't know that, Cap'n," replied the master of the _Bertha B_. "He
was flat on his back when he struck here and would probably have taken
any job he could get. Hadn't had anything to eat for twenty-four hours."
"Well, he's got a good, clean face. I like the cut of his jib. Got lots
of grit, if I ain't mistaken. Looks as though he knew something, too."
"He's a wireless man. Got an outfit with him that he made himself. He's
had a high school education, too."
"He has, eh? Well, I've been sizing him up, and I thought he was a
clever lad. Got the making of a good man in him. How does he work?"
"Good! Mighty good. Took right hold like an old-timer. Just had to see a
thing done once, and he picked it up as though he had done it all his
life."
"Know anything about his habits?"
"No. But he don't use tobacco, and I'm pretty sure he never touched
booze."
"Well, take care of him, but don't spoil him. Put him through the mill
and see what he's got in him. If he's the lad I take him to be, we don't
want him to get away from us. It's hard to find really good men
nowadays. Well, I must get home. Now mind you don't spoil him."
When the two men came back into the main office Captain Rumford said
rather severely, "Young man, Captain Bagley wants to take you on as a
regular hand. He says he's going to fire the fellow who was drunk this
morning. I don't know about it. I don't know about it. It's a risky
thing to do, when we're so short handed. Jim Hawley is a good worker."
"Oh, sir, if only you will let me stay," pleaded Alec, "you'll never be
sorry. It's true I don't know anything about oystering yet, but I can
learn, sir. And I can and will work as hard as anybody. I need the
work--need it terribly. Please, sir, give me a chance."
"Well," said the shipper, "I make it a rule not to interfere with my
captains. Bagley says he wants you, and I suppose I shall have to humor
him. Your uncle was a great friend of his. But mind, you can't hold a
job on one of my boats just because your uncle was a friend of the
skipper. I'll give you a job. But it's up to you to keep it.
Understand?"
"Thank you, sir. Thank you," said Alec gratefully. "It's very good of
you to give me the chance. I'll try to make good, sir. I can learn as
well as anybody."
"Very well. We will see what you can do. Now I must be getting home, or
I'll have to account to Mrs. Rumford for this extra half hour."
The captain's face was as stern as ever, but there was a twinkle in his
eyes that belied the sternness. And the tone in which the skipper said,
"Good night, Bagley," confirmed Alec's first impression that Captain
Rumford had a soft heart under his somewhat rough exterior.
The three oystermen went down-stairs. Captain Rumford locked the door
and went to his automobile, parked on the farther side of the railroad.
Alec and Captain Bagley turned back toward the pier shed. To Alec, the
interview just ended seemed momentous. He had a job. He had a start in
life. But little did he dream what a part this half hour in the oyster
shipper's office was destined to play in his life.
It was still daylight, though dusk was at hand. "If it's all right,"
said Alec, "I'd like to look around a bit."
"Look as much as you like," said Captain Bagley. "But you'd better turn
in early. You know we have to be out to the oyster-beds by sunup. Hello!
There's Hawley now."
Alec waited to see what would happen. The big oysterman came swinging
along under the pier shed, just sufficiently unsteady on his feet to
betray the fact that he had been drinking again.
"Go aboard and get your duds," called Captain Bagley sharply, as the man
came up to him. "You can get what's due you on Friday when the rest are
paid."
"What do you mean?"
"You know well enough what I mean. Take your clothes out of my boat and
don't you set foot in her again."
The drunken oysterman leered at Captain Bagley. "You can't fire me.
You've got only three men left and there ain't another hand to be had."
"There ain't, eh? Well, here's one. He did your work to-day, and he's
going to do it every day. See? Now get your things out of the _Bertha B_
and be quick about it."
Instantly a change came over the oysterman. "Take the bread from an
honest man's mouth, would you?" he snarled, turning upon Alec. "Take his
job away from him, would you? You young pup, I'll fix you!"
His attitude was so threatening that Alec stepped back in alarm.
Captain Bagley grasped the sailor by the arm and spun him around. "You
get your clothes and get out here before you get in trouble," he said
sternly.
The oysterman swore viciously, but obeyed, and went shambling down the
pier to the boat.
"You'd better keep your weather-eye on him," said the captain. "I don't
believe he'd really try to hurt you, but he's a bad actor when he gets
drunk. So just watch him. I'll go aboard and see that he behaves himself
on the _Bertha B_."
Alec hastened to have a look at his surroundings before darkness came.
Although it was late in the day, there was still much activity on the
piers, for this was the rush season. In the slips between piers were
many square-ended scows, some loaded deep with oysters that were covered
with burlap sacks against a sudden cold snap, while others were entirely
emptied of their cargo, their sacks laid in neat piles amidships.
Still other scows were being unloaded. Mostly four scow men were at work
in each scow, counting and culling the oysters. As fast as the baskets
were filled, they were hoisted to the piers, where other men emptied
them into sacks and tossed the empty baskets back into the scows. Six
baskets filled a sack. The sacks were sewed up as fast as they were
filled, and trundled off on trucks to the waiting cars. Such rattlers
and empty shells as had gotten in among the good oysters were thrown in
little heaps in the centres of the scows.
Presently Alec saw a rough looking old fellow sculling a flat-bottomed
boat into a slip where some empty scows were floating.
"Can I have your shells, Cap'n?" asked the boatman of the shipper who
stood on the pier, sewing up the last of his sacks.
"Sure," said the shipper, and the old boatman began to shovel the shells
from the scows into his own boat.
"Now I wonder what he wants with those shells," thought Alec. Then,
following his rule, he decided to watch and see what the old fellow did
with them.
As there were six scows to clean, it was evident that it would take him
some time to get all the shells; so Alec walked on. He went past pier
after pier. On most of them, men were just finishing their day's work,
sewing up and trundling away the last of their oysters. On some piers
were great rows of barrels, such as had sheltered Alec from the wind on
Captain Rumford's pier. On practically every pier baskets were stacked
up like the barrels; and when Alec noticed how wet they were, he rightly
guessed that they were left out in the wind to dry. On some piers seines
were hung up on long poles that extended from rafter to rafter. Yawl
boats, most of them equipped with gasoline engines, floated in the
slips. And several had been stowed on piers. One by one the oyster craft
were tying up at the ends of the piers, so that the river began to
present as crowded an appearance as it had in the early morning.
At the end of the pier shed was a big blacksmith shop, with quantities
of dredges, anchors, and other boat equipment to be mended.
Alec went around the end of the pier house and started back along the
wide shipping platform. He was amazed to see that three lines of cars on
three parallel tracks stood ready to receive the day's yield of oysters.
Little, metal markers, labeled Scranton, Wilkes-Barre, Williamsport, New
York, and so on, were stuck in the doors of the various cars, to help
the men trucking the oysters get them in the proper cars. The strings of
cars reached the full length of the oyster sheds, which must have been
at least two hundred yards; and Alec saw at once that when the three
strings were coupled in one train, there would be considerably more than
a third of a mile of oysters going to market. When he remembered that he
had seen another train at the oyster sheds across the river, he suddenly
realized what an enormous industry this oyster business was, and what a
lot of money there must be in it for successful oyster shippers. It made
him more determined than ever to look into the situation well and see if
his opportunity in life might not lie right here.
As Alec walked along the shipping platform, his wonder grew. Here were
telegraph stations, butcher shops, ship-chandleries, where one could buy
almost anything needed aboard ship, and so on, as well as the offices of
the oystermen. Overhead swung the signs of the different shippers, and
Alec was interested in reading them. On these signs he saw many of the
names he had seen earlier in the day on the oyster-boats themselves; and
he guessed that many of these boats, like the _Bertha B_ and the _Mary
and Willie_, must have been named after members of the shippers'
families.
By the time Alec had completed the circuit of the oyster sheds, and
gotten back to the slip where the old man was collecting shells, it was
almost dark. The shell collector was just sculling his craft out of the
slip into the river. Alec walked to the end of the pier and saw that the
man was pointing his boat up-stream. Deciding to follow him on land,
Alec hurried along under the pier shed in pursuit.
Long before this the electric lights had been lighted, and Alec did not
realize how dark it really was until he had passed beyond the shed under
the open sky. At first he could hardly see anything. Once he glanced
back, and in the faint light from the pier shed made out the form of a
man behind him. As he went on, he heard footsteps coming close, but
thought nothing of it. He came to a little landing place built of a few
planks, that projected well out over the water. His eyes had now grown
accustomed to the dark, and he cautiously made his way out on this
landing, to look for the shell collector. He was surprised to hear a
tread behind him on the landing. Just as he turned to see who was
coming, there was a rush of feet on the planks, a hoarse voice cursed
him viciously, and in another instant powerful arms grasped him and
flung him headlong into the swirling tide.