Book Description
CHAPTER I SENOR DE JIMINEZ"There's one thing certain," said my uncle, Naboth Perkins, banging his fist on the table for emphasis. "If we don't manage get a cargo in ten days we'll up anchor an' quit this bloomin' island."My father the skipper, leaning back in his easy-chair with his legs--one of them cork--stretched upon the table and his pipe in his mouth, nodded assent as he replied:"Very good.""Here it is five weeks since we finished unloadin' that machinery," went on Uncle Naboth, "an' since then the Seagull's been floatin' like a swan in the waters o' Port Phillip an' lettin' the barnacles nip her. There ain't a shipper in Melbourne as'll give us an ounce o' cargo; an' why? Jest because we're American an' float the Stars an' Stripes--that's why. There's a deep-seated conspiracy agin American shipping in Australia, an' what little truck they've got to send to America goes in British ships or it don't go at all."