with himself, even in his wet garments, he boarded a city-bound
trolley car and departed for the warmth and hospitality of Scab
Johnny's sailor boarding house in Oregon Street.




CHAPTER V


Captain Scraggs continued to hurl other people's vegetables into
the murk forward for at least two minutes after Mr. McGuffey had
shaken the coal dust of the _Maggie_ from his feet, and was only
recalled to more practical affairs by the bored voice of Mr.
Gibney.

"The owners o' them artichokes expect to get half a dollar apiece
for 'em in New York, Scraggsy. Cut it out, old timer, or you'll
have a claim for a freight shortage chalked up agin you."

"Nothin' matters any more," Scraggs replied in a choked voice,
and immediately sat down on the half-emptied crate of artichokes
and commenced to weep bitterly--half because of rage and half
because he regarded himself a pauper. Already he had a vision of
himself scouring the waterfront in search of a job.

"No use boo-hooin' over spilt milk, Scraggsy." Always
philosophical, the author of the owner's woe sought to carry the
disaster off lightly. "Don't add your salt tears to a saltier sea
until you're certain you're a total loss an' no insurance. I got