A little later Fogg escorted the young man up the gang-plank of the _Nequasset_, from whose hold the last of her load of clanging rails was being derricked by panting windlass engines. To Captain Zoradus Wass, who was lounging against the rail just outside the pilot-house, Mr. Fogg marched with business promptitude, and spoke with assurance. “Captain, my name is Fletcher Fogg. Within forty-eight hours the directors of the Vose line will elect me president and general manager. That news may be rather astonishing, but it's true.” The veteran skipper did not reply. He shifted a certain bulge from one cheek to the other. “Well?” queried Fogg, a bit sharply. “I ain't saying anything” “You believe what I tell you, don't you?” “I don't know you.” “This young man is David Boyne, acting clerk of the Vose line corporation. The annual meeting has just been held in this city. He made the official records. He will tell you that a new board of directors has been chosen--the old crowd is out.” “That is so,” stated Boyne, obeying the prompting of Fogg's quick glance. “I don't know you, either.” Mr. Fogg was not abashed. “It isn't especially necessary that you know us. How soon do you leave?” “We're going out light as soon as them rails are on the wharf.” “I am sending Mr. Boyne with you on a tour of inspection, captain. Please give him quarters and use him right.” “Nothing doing till I get orders from the owners,” declared Captain Wass. “Haven't I told you that I shall be general manager of this line to-morrow, or next day, at the latest?” “When you're general manager come around and give off your orders, sir.” “I'll do it. I'll come aboard in New York--” “I'm ordered to Philadelphia,” prompted Captain Wass. “That's where you'll find me.” “Philadelphia, then! I'll come aboard and fire you.” “Do just as you feel like doing.” “You refuse to take along this young man?” “This ain't a passenger-boat. I don't know you. Show orders from owners--otherwise nothing doing.” Mate Mayo had come out of his cabin, near at hand. With a young man's quicker perception of possibilities and contingencies he realized that his skipper might be letting an old man's obstinacy block common sense. The first mate had an eye for men and their manners. He had been listening to Mr. Fogg. That gentleman certainly seemed to know what he was talking about. And young Mate Mayo, having a nose for news as well as an eye for men, understood that the coast transportation business was in a touchy state generally. He gave Mr. Fogg further inspection and decided that a little skilful compromising was advisable. “Captain Wass, will you step aside with me a moment?” asked the mate. “What for?” “I want to have a word with you.” “Have it right here,” said the captain, tartly. “I never have any business that's got to be whispered behind corners.” He scowled when his mate gave him a wink, both suggestive and imploring. “Spit it out!”