Paul was out again before daylight and sought out the contractor.

This day he got a job on the ship Fanita of San Francisco, discharging grain.

It was much cleaner and easier than scraping the steamer's bottom.

His job was to guide the sacks of grain out of the hold while a horse on the dock attached to a long line passed over a block hoisted them up.

While at this work the two mates of the ship stood near the hatchway and commenced making remarks about Paul whom they thought was a Frenchman.
"There is one of those French soldiers," said one.
"Yes," added the other; "he looks pretty hungry and thin; it is no wonder the Dutch licked them." Paul smiled, but said nothing until a better opportunity presented itself, when he entered into conversation with the mate, who was much surprised to find that he was an American.