fortune-hunter, of the ancient type; that is, he expected to work for
it. Shore leave would be his, and if during that time he found
nothing, why, he was determined to finish the summer as a steward; and
by fall he would have enough in wages and tips to give him a start in
life. At present he could jingle but seven-and-six in his pocket; and
jingle it frequently he did, to assure himself that it was not wearing
away.

An important tug came bustling alongside. By the yellow flag he knew
that it carried the quarantine officials, inspectors, and a few
privileged citizens. Among others who came aboard Thomas noted a
sturdy thick-chested man in a derby hat--bowler, Thomas called it.
Quietly this man sought the captain and handed him what looked to
Thomas like a cablegram. The captain read it and shook his head.
Thomas overheard a little of their conversation.

"You're welcome to look about, Mr. Haggerty; but I don't think you'll
find the person you seek."

"If you don't mind, I'll take a prowl. Special case, Captain. Mr.
Killigrew thought perhaps I'd see a face I knew."

"Valuable?"

"Fine sapphires. A chance that they may come int' this port. They
haven't yet."

"Your customs inspectors ought to be able to help you," observed the
captain, hiding a smile. "Nothing but motes can slip through their
fingers."