Mr. Dainopoulos looked after him for a moment with an expression of perplexity on his marred features and then sat down. "What's the matter with him?" inquired Mr. Spokesly, very much interested. "Is he touched at all?" "No, he's all right. Only he grumble grumble too much," said Mr. Dainopoulos scratching his chin philosophically. "I should think he does if he's always like that. What is his job worth?" "Seven hundred drachma a month I pay him, and he says it's not enough." "That so? Hm!" Mr. Spokesly was thinking. "That's about thirty pound a month. And I suppose he finds the ship." Mr. Dainopoulos nodded. "Fifteen hundred drachma a month for that, and he says he lose money on the job." Mr. Spokesly was looking down at the floor, flicking the ash from a cigarette, and he did not see the sudden wide-open stare Dainopoulos fixed upon him, as though beholding him in a new aspect. "Why, think of it. Here you are, without a ship!" he exclaimed. "No doubt about that," muttered Mr. Spokesly. "Well, why not make a trip for me? This ship she's not very _beeg_, but she's going down to the Islands for the Government, you understand." "For the Government? A transport?" "One trip. After that I'll have something else much better for you. Yes, much better." "What, go mate with this Captain Rannie?" "One trip," said Mr. Dainopoulos, holding up his forefinger. "I can fix you for four hundred drachma a month." "You said something, first time I came ashore, about a skipper's job," said Mr. Spokesly. "That's just what I mean. Something better, see? This skipper," he added, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "he no good! But he got a paper from me, you understand, for a year, so I can't do nothin'." "What about me?" said Mr. Spokesly, rather to his own surprise. "Do I get a paper, too?" "Only one trip," countered Mr. Dainopoulos. "You go one trip and I'll fix you for a _beeg_ ship." "Well, I can't do any better, and going home may be a wash-out," mused Mr. Spokesly. "I'll get some clothes." "You go to a friend o' mine and he'll get you everything. Here's the number. Jean Tjimiski Street. You better get uniform, see, and wear all the time. Better than plain clothes. Plenty trouble goin' aboard ship without uniform. And then you come to my house." "I was going to the Olympos," began Mr. Spokesly. "Too dear! Olympos no good," hastily began Mr. Dainopoulos who was not at all anxious to have an employee of his drawn into conversation by the people who lived at the Olympos. "You come to my house. I will speak to the officer who buy the stores from me and he will be glad if captain and mate both English, you understand. That all right?" And he patted Mr. Spokesly on the shoulder. "You mean, come and stay with you?" "Certainly. Why not? My wife, she likes you very much. And Miss Solaris, eh?" "Well, I don't notice she likes me so very much. She tolerates me. I don't understand that girl, Mister."