like the cut av that fella's jib."
That was the Irish of it. A representative of any other race on earth would have employed the third person singular when referring to the absent Murphy; only an Irishman would have said "that fella," and only a certain kind of Irishman could have managed to inject into such simple words such a note of scorn supernal. Cappy Ricks got the message--just like that.
"Then stay off his bridge, Reardon," he warned the chief. "Your job is in the engine-room, so even if you and Captain Murphy do not like each other, there will be no excuse for friction. The only communication you need have with him is through the engine-room telegraph."
"Then, sor," Terence Reardon replied respectfully, "I'll take it kindly av you to tell him to keep out av me engine-room. I'll have no skipper buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an' askin' me why in this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith, I've had thim do it--the wanst--an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd have brained thim wit' a monkey wrench if they tried it a second time."
"On the other hand," Cappy remarked, "I've had to fire more than one chief engineer who couldn't cure himself of a habit of coming up on the bridge when the vessel got to port--to tell the skipper how to berth his ship against a strong flood tide. I suppose that while we have steamships the skippers will always wonder how the vessel can possibly make steerage way, considering the chief engineers, while the chiefs will never cease marvelling that such fine ships should be entrusted to a lot of Johnny Know-Nothings. However, Reardon, I might as well tell you that the Blue Star Navigation Company plays no favorites. When the chief and the skipper begin to interfere with the dividends, they look overside some bright day and see Alden P. Ricks waiting for them on the cap of the wharf. And when the ship is alongside, the said Ricks comes aboard with five bones in his pocket, and the said skipper and the said chief are invited into the dining saloon to roll the said bones--one flop and high man out. Yes, sir. Out! Out of the ship and out of the Blue Star employ--for ever."
"I hear you, sor. I hearrd you the first time," Terence Reardon replied complacently and reached for his pipe. "All I ask from you is a square deal. I'll have it from the captain wit'out the askin'."
Thus the Reardon breathing his defiance.
"I'm glad we understand each other, chief. Just avoid arguments, political or religious, and treat the skipper with courtesy. Then you'll get along all right. Now with reference to your salary. The union scale is one hundred and fifty dollars a month--"
"Beggin' yer pardon for the intherruption, sor, but the young man promised me a hundhred an' siventy-five."
"That was before the Blue Star Navigation Company took over the young man and his ship _Narcissus._ Hereafter you'll deal with the old man in such matters. I'm going to give you two hundred a month, Reardon, and you are to keep the Narcissus out of the shop. Hear me, chief--out of the shop."
"No man can ordher me to do me djooty," said Terence Reardon simply. "Tell the fine gintleman on the bridge to keep her out av the kelp, an' faith, she'll shtay out av the shop. Thank you kindly, sor. When do I go to wurrk?"
"Your pay started this morning. The Narcissus goes on Christy's ways in Oakland Harbor at the tip of the flood this afternoon. Get on the ship and stay on her. It's a day-and-night rush job to get her in commission, and you'll be paid time and a half while she's repairing. Good-day and good luck to you, chief. Come in and see me whenever you get to port." And Cappy Ricks, most democratic of men, extended his hand to his newest employee. Terence Reardon took it in his huge paw that would never be clean any more, and held it for a moment, the while he looked fearlessly into Cappy's eyes.
"'Tis a proud man I am to wurrk for you, sor," he said simply. "Tip-top serrvice for tip-top pay, an' by the Great Gun av Athlone, you'll get it from me, sor. If ever the ship is lost 'twill be no fault of mine."
Mr. Reardon's manner, as he thus calmly exculpated himself from the penalty for future disaster, indicated quite clearly that Cappy Ricks, in such a contingency, might look to the man higher up--on the bridge, for instance.
When Terence Reardon had departed Cappy Ricks called Mike Murphy into the room.
"Now, captain," he began, "there are a few things I want to tell you. This man Reardon is
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