He drew a breath, and I noticed his hand, lying loosely on the
table, close slowly into a fist. In that immovable man it was
startling, ominous, like the famed nod of the Commander.

"So, already at that time--note--already," he growled.

"But hold on," I interrupted. "The Sagamore belonged to Mundy and
Rogers, I've been told."

He snorted contemptuously. "Damn boatmen--know no better. Flew
the firm's HOUSE-FLAG. That's another thing. Favour. It was like
this: When old man Dunbar died, Captain Harry was already in
command with the firm. George chucked the bank he was clerking in-
-to go on his own with what there was to share after the old chap.
George was a smart man. Started warehousing; then two or three
things at a time: wood-pulp, preserved-fruit trade, and so on.
And Captain Harry let him have his share to work with. . . I am
provided for in my ship, he says. . . But by-and-by Mundy and
Rogers begin to sell out to foreigners all their ships--go into
steam right away. Captain Harry gets very upset--lose command,
part with the ship he was fond of--very wretched. Just then, so it
happened, the brothers came in for some money--an old woman died or
something. Quite a tidy bit. Then young George says: There's
enough between us two to buy the Sagamore with. . . But you'll need
more money for your business, cries Captain Harry--and the other
laughs at him: My business is going on all right. Why, I can go
out and make a handful of sovereigns while you are trying to get
your pipe to draw, old man. . . Mundy and Rogers very friendly