"There's my luck!" he says. "I meant to tell Irish to take the boiloff and forgot it. Now their skins'll peel. You go away, Tommy. Yougo ashore. You can't do me no good."

He looked sheepish and troubled. When I pulled away, he sat staringdown, with his back turned, his boots dangling over the water, andhis shoulders bent. He certainly felt bad.

The Superintendent of the Transport Company was named Dorcas, abustling, heavy-bearded man that you couldn't hold still and thattalked fast and jerky like a piston rod.

I met him in the Plaza next morning going into the City Hall.

"Come on," he says. "We'll fix it. What? Jefe was stuck. Come to me.Now then. Got an idea. Suit him first-rate. You see. Struck me thismorning," says Dorcas. "Suit everybody."