The humblest Indian in the obscurest village on the coast was familiar with the Cerberus, a little black puffer without charm or living accommodation to speak of, whose mission was to creep inshore along the wooded beaches close to mighty ugly rocks, stopping obligingly before every cluster of huts to collect produce, down to three-pound parcels of indiarubber bound in a wrapper of dry grass.
And as they seldom failed to account for the smallest package, rarely lost a bullock, and had never drowned a single passenger, the name of the O.S.N.stood very high for trustworthiness.

People declared that under the Company's care their lives and property were safer on the water than in their own houses on shore.
The O.S.N.'s superintendent in Sulaco for the whole Costaguana section of the service was very proud of his Company's standing.

He resumed it in a saying which was very often on his lips, "We never make mistakes." To the Company's officers it took the form of a severe injunction, "We must make no mistakes.

I'll have no mistakes here, no matter what Smith may do at his end." Smith, on whom he had never set eyes in his life, was the other superintendent of the service, quartered some fifteen hundred miles away from Sulaco.

"Don't talk to me of your Smith." Then, calming down suddenly, he would dismiss the subject with studied negligence.
"Smith knows no more of this continent than a baby." "Our excellent Senor Mitchell" for the business and official world of Sulaco; "Fussy Joe" for the commanders of the Company's ships, Captain Joseph Mitchell prided himself on his profound knowledge of men and things in the country--cosas de Costaguana.