whispered conversation with a gray-bearded old gentleman, who looked me
over with a shrewd eye, and nodded his assent to my buying a ticket.

"It won't be necessary for you to sign ship's articles," said the agent,
turning affable all of a sudden. "We have a passenger-license for the
_Kut Sang_, although we have withdrawn her from the passenger-trade
except in cases of emergency or delay of the regular ships. But she
hasn't been in the passenger-trade for nearly a year and we won't
undertake to guarantee the table or service.

"You won't find her equal to a liner, and the ticket is sold with the
understanding that she is a cargo-boat, and if you are willing to take
pot-luck with Captain Riggs, that is your affair. However, it is
understood that you are not to make unreasonable complaints or demands of
the master."

My answer to this was to dump a handful of gold coins on the counter
before he could change his mind. I told him I was willing to go to Hong
Kong in a coal-barge.

"You will find it lonesome on the passage," he said.

"I'll manage all right," I replied, not quite rid of my asperity over
their lack of decision about taking a passenger.

"We have already sold one ticket," continued the clerk, as he put down
figures on a pad. He glanced at me with a quizzical expression, and then
smiled.

"One passenger will help," I commented, for something better to say.