"Hum! So you're going to give him the job for telling you something
our own port engineer would have told us after an examination."

"No, sir, I'm going to give him the job because he has earned
it. He gave me some very valuable information about the wretched
condition of her electric-light plant and a crack, cunningly
concealed, in the after web of her crank shaft--"

"Oh, by thunder," piped Cappy, "that's worth knowing! Ship a new
crank shaft, Matt, and save the Blue Star a salvage bill sooner or
later."

"All that inside information will not only save us money in
the future," Matt continued, "but it enabled me to drive a closer
bargain when dealing with MacCandless, of the Oriental Steamship
Company. Consequently Terence Reardon gets the job. He's only making
a hundred and fifty dollars a month in the _Arab_, and as he
is a rattling good man--I've looked him up, sir--I've promised him
a hundred and seventy-five a month in the _Narcissus_."

"Oh, you've already promised him the job, eh? Mistake, Matt,
serious mistake. You say you looked him up, but I'll bet you a new
hat there is one thing about him that you failed to investigate,
and that is: What kind of Irish is he?"

"Why, regular Irish, of course--mighty good Irish, I should say.
Keen, observing, not too talkative, a hard worker, temperate in
his habits and a crackajack engineer to boot."