Tentatively Vargas poked his head around the door. "Can I see you a moment, senhor?"

"Yes, what is it?" Jamie asked.

Vargas said distastefully, "There's a man here to see you, a Mr. Corniman--some name like that I think he said."

The name meant nothing to Jamie. Vargas opened the door a crack. The short, ferret-like man was strangely dressed, part in European clothes, part Japanese. Shirt, trousers and thick padded overcoat, clean-shaven, hair clean and tied in a queue, a knife at his belt and well-worn boots. Jamie did not recognize him but here strangers were often not what they seemed. On an impulse he said, "Come in, please sit down." Then he remembered the mail ship. "Vargas, ask Captain Biddy to stop by a moment will you. He should be in the Club.

Sit down, Mr. Corrniman, is it?"

"You's grog, mate?"

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Johnny Cornishman, remember I seed you wiv' the tai-pan, me and my mate, Charlie Yank, we's prospectors, right?"

"Prospectors? Oh yes, I remember you." Now the man was clean and tidy where before he had been a hairy, filthy, foul-smelling beachcomber. His malevolent, furtive little eyes had not changed. "We made you a deal but you went with Brock's," he said sharply, "you sold us out."

"Ay, that we did. We's biznessmen.

Norbert give us'n more brass, didn't he?

Forget him, he's dead. First, some grog, eh?

Then talks."

Jamie kept his interest hidden. A man like this did not come without pay dirt. He unlocked his sideboard and poured half a tumbler of rum.

"You've made a strike?"

The little man quaffed half the glass, choked and bared his gums, toothless but for two twisted brown teeth. "Grog's better'n sak`e, by God, but never mind, the little sheilas is making up for this' lack o' grog." He belched and grinned. "Just so long as you barf. Jesus they's pekulier about water and barfing, more'n in our Yoshiwara, but when you's barfed then they's waggles theys bums till Kingdom come!" He roared at his own joke, then said toughly, "We's got best quality steamer coal, tons, mate, 'nuff to coal our whole effing fleet. At half Hong Kong price, this' ton."

"Where? Delivered where?" Jamie said, brightening. Steamer coal was extremely valuable and in short supply, especially for the fleet, and a local supplier would be a godsend as well as a constant source of revenue. At even twice Hong Kong price he could sell all he could get, let alone half. "Delivered where?"

"'ere in Yokopoko, for Christ's sake, but sixpence a ton you's puts in't bank for Johnny Cornishman." He gulped the rum down. "You's to pay in gold or silver Mex an' you's pay this bugger." He handed over a piece of paper. The bad printing read: Yokohama Village, Shoya Ryoshi, Gyokoyama merchant. "This sod know wot's wot, the ropes, knows wot to do. You's knows the bugger?"

"Yes, he's the village headman."

"Good. Me Guv sayed you'd know him."

"Who's your Guv?"

Cornishman grinned. "Lord 'igh Muck hiself. You's doan' need names. Doan' waste time. We's a deal, yes or no?"

After a moment Jamie said, "Where's the seam?"

"Me strike's me own, mate, not yorn."

The little man laughed nastily. "It be close but in enemy lands. Listen, me first seam's open, wiv a mountain of coal nearby an' a thousand of the yeller buggers to dig'n carry, 'nuff for twenty fleet for twenty year, by God."

"Why me? Why ask me to deal with you?"

"'cause Norbert's bloody dead an' you's bloody kingpin now the tai-pan's dead.

Yokopoko's proper bloody dangerous, eh?"

Cornishman held out the glass. "I's enjoy more grog, if you please, Mister godalmighty Struan's."

Again Jamie poured and sat down again.

Cornishman noticed half the last measure and grunted. "Wot's this?"

"We'll pay a fifth of Hong Kong price, less customs, delivered here, first delivery in thirty days. No side deal."

The little man's eyes darted around the room like a rat's. "Any customs you's pay, mate.

Me side deal stays. Tell you wot: day after tomorrer you's send a coaling barge near Yedo, where I says. Day after termorrer. We fills her up, you's to pay a fifth when full and brings her here to Yoko, you pays that geezer the rest, this' one of the paper. Sixpence a ton in bank in me name, Johnny Cornishman. Can't be fairer, eh? You get coal before you pay an' at half price Hong Kong."

"A fifth of Hong Kong price overall."

The little man's face twisted with anger. "At harf Hong Kong price you's making a big profit, for Christ's sake, the coal's here, not in effing Honkers. You's saves shipping, 'surance, and Christ knows what--we ain't chicken-shit bushwhackers, this's spectible trade!"

Jamie laughed. "Tell you what: first barge I'll pay a third Hong Kong price. If the quality's what you say and you guarantee delivery a barge a week or whatever you can do, I'll up it over the year to half Hong Kong less fifteen percent. Threepence a ton on the side to you. What about your partner, what was his name, Charlie Yank?"

"Sixpence or nuffink." Again the glance darted around the room and came back to rest on him, glittering. "He's dead like yor tai-pan but he didn't die like that lucky bugger."

"You'd better watch your tongue about our tai-pan."

"Go stuff yourself, mate. That were no disrespekt, we's all like to meet old Boney with a doxy chomping on our dingle." He finished his drink and got up. "Two days, at high noon.

Pick up be here." He offered a small hand-drawn map. The X was on the coast a few miles north of Kanagawa, south of Yedo proper. "You's brings tenders, we gives labor."

"Can't do two days, that's a Sunday. Make it Monday."

"'course, Lord's day's the Lord's day.

Three day."

Jamie studied the map. An unprotected coal barge, with tenders and crew might be a tempting bushwhack. "As the barge would be naval, and the coal for the Navy, I imagine they'll send a frigate to stand offshore."

"They's can send the whole effing fleet for all I cares." Cornishman tried to be dignified. "I's made a bonzer strike an' we's proper, by God, very proper."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"It be sixpence a ton or nuffink!"

"Fourpence."

Cornishman spat. "Sixpence, by God, I's knows worth of coal, and worth to effing fleet, an' wot you's can make off 'em.

Maybe I's deal direct."

"You could try," Jamie said gambling.

"Tell you what, fourpence first ten barges, rest sixpence."

The little man glowered at him. "Now I's knows why you's Noble bloody House." He stuck out his hand, rough and horny. "Yor word as Struan's gent." They shook. Then he said, "Oh yus, you's any mercury?"

Jamie's attention soared back. Mercury would be used in the extraction of gold. "Yes.

How much do you need?"

"Not a lot for starters. You's put it on the tab?"

"All right. You're staying at the Yokohama Arms?"

"Not effing likely--no Drunk Town for me," Cornishman said with a sneer. "I's on me way back right smartly, an' you's to keep supply secret, deal secret, no names no pack drill--I's wanting no bleeding bushwhackers jumping me claim." He started to leave.

"Wait! Where are you going? How do I contact you?"

"I's going back to me claim, mate." Again he bared his gums in his evil smile. "Me samurais and me palanquin's outside this' North Gate, I snuck in private like.

Next time I's come back, I's come back as gent, no effing Drunk Town no more. An' you's doan' contact me no more, you go's to the geezer. I's 'spektible trader now and doan' you's forget it. Put mercury on't barge."

He walked out.

For a long time Jamie stared at the walls, sifting what had been said. A reliable coal supply would be wonderful but bound to vanish when the fleet flattened Yedo. And why mercury? Has that rotten bugger hit real pay dirt? And who's the real boss? Come to think of it, who's mine?