In
his mind's eye there loomed the picture of that great red freighter,
with her foul bottom, rusty funnel and unpainted, weather-beaten upper
works.
"Her bridge is pretty well exposed to the weather," he murmured. "I'd
build it up so the man on watch could just look over it. I noticed
they'd had the good sense to house over her winches, so I dare say
they're in good shape; her paint will have prevented rust below the
water line, and I'll bet she's as sound as the day she was built. I
think I'd paint her dead black, with red underbody and terra-cotta
upper works." He pondered. "Yes, and I'd paint her funnel dead
black, too, with a broad red band; and on both sides of the funnel, in
the center of this red band, I'd have a white diamond with a black P
in the center of it. By George, they'd know the Peasley Line as far
as they could see it!"
He would have dreamed on had he not bethought himself suddenly of his
modest capital--fifty thousand-odd dollars, out of which he owed Cappy
Ricks a considerable sum on a promissory note due in one year. On
such a meager bank balance it would not do to dream of buying a vessel
worth nearly four hundred thousand dollars. Why, it would require
twenty thousand dollars to put her in commission after all these years
of idleness, and she had to have another boiler because she was a hog
on coal; and, in addition, her operating cost would be between nine
and ten thousand dollars a month.
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