To some, he knew, it was confusing, but Briggs always considered it exciting and vibrant, just like the whole land was now that the war was over. Increasingly, since the armistice and from the evidence he had seen from the American ports he visited, comparing them and their business efficiency against those he knew from foreign jetties, Briggs had determined that America would grow into an important country. And he would be a part of that growth. He relaxed easily against the worn leather of the seat, gazing out at the jostled, thronged streets and experiencing again the satisfaction that had first come at the rail of the Mary Celeste. There could be few people in this city or even this country as fortunate as he. Consciously he controlled the emotion, annoyed with himself for permitting it a second time. He’d make the opportunity before the Mary Celeste sailed to visit a church and thank God for his blessings.

They were expecting him at the offices of the United States Shipping Commissioner and the documents were ready. He signed first the articles of agreement, then the list of persons comprising the crew. Within fifteen minutes he was back in the carriage, heading for the offices of J. W. Winchester amp; Co.

The principal owner was waiting for him, too.

‘We’ve obtained cargo insurance from the Atlantic Mutual covering the freight,’ announced Winchester, after they had shaken hands and Winchester had shown Briggs to a chair bordering his desk. ‘Total of $3,400.’

‘What premium?’ asked Briggs. Commercial alcohol was a more difficult freight than some.