THE LUCK OF THE IRISH
piers. What drew him toward a group of white men he did not know. It was one of those mysterious "hunches." Perhaps it was their excited gestures. At any rate, he approached. Three of the men were officers off some vessel in the harbor, and the fourth was a landsman.
"I tell you Jason's gone to the palace at Johore. He's the only expert I've got, the only man in Singapore who could handle your work just now. The Sultan is installing new plumbing. It's a four or five weeks' job, and I can't call him back for a job that isn't worth more than three thousand rupees, probably a good deal less."
"But, man, can't you dig up some one for us? We can't wait for your expert to return and we can't put to sea with fresh-water tanks aleak and the piping broken God knows where! I can't afford to have any native tinkering around my ship. It's no ordinary job. Why can't you handle it personally?"
"Simply because while I manage a shop I'm no expert plumber. Jason is probably the only man in Singapore who knows anything about ship plumbing."
Ship plumbing! William's heart leaped thunderously. So much depended upon his address. He called it bluff. He would have exchanged a year of his life for ten minutes of that old fearlessness. If he could keep his voice steady, mask his anxiety. … He stepped forward.
"Pardon me, but are you looking for an expert plumber? I'm one."
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