Saloons predominate, but between them are located tiny eating
houses, cheap clothing shops, meat stalls, bargain "counters," and
lodging-places, only about one in ten of the latter being fit for
occupancy.
"Here we are!" exclaimed the sailor presently.
They stepped up to a small restaurant, considerably neater than its
neighbors. Its exterior was painted light blue, and over the door in
big, black letters, hung the sign:
THE WATCH BELOW, DOC LINYARD, _Boatswain_.
And to the right of the door, near a figurehead representing a gorgeous
mermaid, were added the words:
_Messmates Always Welcome_.
The doors were wide open, and the two entered.
Several men sat at various tables, eating and drinking, and behind a
counter that did the double duty of a pie-stand and a cashier's desk
sat a tall, old man with grizzled white hair.
"Well, pop!" exclaimed Doc Linyard, as he stepped up.
"Hello, my boy! Back again," returned the older man. "Did you find
'em?" he added, in an anxious tone.
"No."
The old man shook his head ominously.
"Too bad, too bad," he murmured.
But he was evidently too old to take a very strong interest in the
matter.
"Never mind, it will all come outright in the end," was the son's
reassuring reply. "Where is Betty?"
"In the kitchen.
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