the dock looking taller and sloppier than ever. He walked with his joints all slung wrong.
“There he is.”
Eddy looked pretty bad. He never looked too good early in the morning; but he looked pretty bad now. “Where were you?” I asked him.
“On the floor.”
“Did you see it?” Johnson asked him.
“Don’t talk about it, Mr. Johnson,” Eddy said to him. “It makes me sick to even think about it.” “You better have a drink,” Johnson told him Then he said to me, “Well, are we going out?” “That’s up to you.”
“What sort of a day will it be?”
“Just about like yesterday. Maybe better.”
“Let’s get out, then.”
“All right, as soon as the bait comes.”
We’d had this bird out three weeks fishing the stream and I hadn’t seen any of his money yet except one hundred dollars he gave me to pay the consul, and clear, and get some grub, and put gas in her before we came across. I was furnishing all the tackle and he had her chartered at thirty-five dollars a day. He slept at a hotel and came aboard every morning. Eddy got me the charter so I had to carry him. I was giving him four dollars a day.
“I’ve got to put gas in her,” I told Johnson.
“All right.”
