Special Business of a Passenger

O Ranzo was no sailor,
He shipped on board a whaler.
O pity Reuben Ran-zo, Ran-zo, boys!
O poor old Reuben Ranzo, Ranzo, boys!
--Reuben Ranzo.

Captain Mayo kept out of the region of the white lights for some time.
He had a pretty wide acquaintance in the Virginia port, and he knew the
beaten paths of the steamboating transients, ashore for a bit of a blow.

He lurked in alleys, feeling especially disreputable. He was not at
all sure that his make-up was effective. His own self-consciousness
convinced him that he was a glaring fraud, whose identity would be
revealed promptly to any person who knew him. But while he sneaked in
the purlieus of the city several of his 'longshore friends passed him
without a second look. One, a second engineer on a Union line freighter,
whirled after passing, and came back to him.

"Got a job, boy?"

"No, sir."

"We need coal-passers on the Drummond. She's in the stream. Come
aboard in the morning."

But it was not according to Mayo's calculation, messing with steamboat
men. "Ah doan' conclude ah wants no sech job," he drawled.

"No, of course you don't want to work, you blasted yaller mutt!" snapped
the engineer. He marched on, cursing, and Mayo was encouraged, for the
man had given him a thorough looking-over.

He went out onto the wider streets. He was looking for a roving schooner
captain, reckoning he would know one of that gentry by the cut of his
jib.