"There are no twins. Pinky never had any children until after
Bull McGinty took up with her, which was after you left her. They
say she doesn't think quite as much of McGinty as she did of you.
He has a dash of dark blood and it shows up strong."

"The dog wrote me he'd married a sugar plantation in Maui."

"Perhaps he did. If the plantation didn't produce, though, you
can bet Bull McGinty wouldn't stay put. By the way, I have a
photograph of Queen Pinky. Snapped her with my kodak on the last
trip." He searched around in the drawer of his desk and brought
the picture forth. "Think you'd recognize Her Majesty after all
these years?" he asked.

Mr. Gibney seized the picture, gazed upon it a moment, and
emitted one horrified ejaculation which in itself would have been
sufficient to bar him forever from polite society. For what he
gazed upon was not the lovely Pinky of other days, but a very
fat, untidy, ugly black woman in a calico Mother Hubbard dress.
The face, while good-natured, was wrinkled with age and
dissipation; indeed, worldling that he was, Mr. Gibney saw at a
glance that Pinky had grown fond of her gin. From the royal lips
a huge black cigar protruded.

"I guess I won't take that bo'sun job after all," he gasped--and
fled. Two minutes later, Captain Scraggs and Mr. McGuffey, were
astonished to find Mr. Gibney waiting for them on deck. His face
was terrible to behold; he fixed Scraggs with a searching glance
and advanced upon the _Maggie's_ owner with determination in
every movement.