A farewell surprise package from Galbraith, he had arrived at the hotel
the night before, by express from New York. It was Galbraith’s way. Yet
he might so easily have been decently like other folk and sent fruit .
. . or flowers, even. But no; his affectionate inspiration had to take
the form of a yelping, yapping two months’ old puppy. And with the
advent of the terrier the trouble had begun. The hotel clerk judged me
a criminal before the act I had not even had time to meditate. And then
Wada, on his own initiative and out of his own foolish stupidity, had
attempted to smuggle the puppy into his room and been caught by a house
detective. Promptly Wada had forgotten all his English and lapsed into
hysterical Japanese, and the house detective remembered only his Irish;
while the hotel clerk had given me to understand in no uncertain terms
that it was only what he had expected of me.
Damn the dog, anyway! And damn Galbraith too! And as I froze on in the
cab on that bleak pier-end, I damned myself as well, and the mad freak
that had started me voyaging on a sailing-ship around the Horn.
By ten o’clock a nondescript youth arrived on foot, carrying a
suit-case, which was turned over to me a few minutes later by the
wharfinger. It belonged to the pilot, he said, and gave instructions to
the chauffeur how to find some other pier from which, at some
indeterminate time, I should be taken aboard the _Elsinore_ by some
other tug. This served to increase my irritation. Why should I not have
been informed as well as the pilot?
An hour later, still in my cab and stationed at the shore end of the
new pier, the pilot arrived. Anything more unlike a pilot I could not
have imagined. Here was no blue-jacketed, weather-beaten son of the
sea, but a soft-spoken gentleman, for all the world the type of
successful business man one meets in all the clubs. He introduced
himself immediately, and I invited him to share my freezing cab with
Possum and the baggage. That some change had been made in the
arrangements by Captain West was all he knew, though he fancied the tug
would come along any time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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