That evening he set off north along the coast, hoping that Vera Cruz lay in that direction. Here on the sea, villages were much more frequent. At the first he came to, lights in all the houses told him that the inhabitants were taking their leisure after the long, hot day. Having for close on a fortnight gone to great trouble to avoid contact with anyone, he felt considerable reluctance to enter the village. But the plunge had to be taken some time, so he nerved himself to walk on to the little piazza.
In it there was a small eating house. No one had taken any notice of him, so the temptation to enjoy a hot meal proved irresistible. The fare offered was simple, but included freshly caught fish; and he ate voraciously, enjoying the meal more than he would have a carefully chosen dinner at the Ritz.
As he paid his bill he got into conversation with the waitress and told her that he had hiked from Puebla with the idea of getting a job as a seaman, but had lost his way the preceding night, so had only a vague idea where he was. He learned from her that Vera Cruz was about fifteen miles further north.
Proceeding on his way, he passed through three more villages and covered two thirds of the distance to the great port, then dossed down for the remainder of the night in a hut on the beach. Next morning, another two miles brought him within sight of the steeples of Vera Cruz, but immediately in his path there lay a smaller town. On entering it, he found it to be called Boca del Rio. It had quite a good harbour and, lying off it were three ships, one of which was flying the Stars and Stripes.
As he stood on the quayside looking out at them, it occurred to him that there would be many fewer officials in a small port like his than at Vera Cruz; so he would stand less risk of detection f he made his attempt here to get aboard a ship and stow away.
To do so would require careful planning and might take several days; so, although he was loath to register at an hotel, he decided that it would be better to do that than to spend the nights on the streets and risk being picked up by the police.
Choosing a small inn that looked fairly clean, he gave his name is Sancho Bracero and enquired for a room. When he was asked for his papers, he said that the previous night he had got drunk in Vera Cruz, gone to a brothel and been robbed of his wallet; then he produced some money as evidence that he could still pay his reckoning. The fat landlord shrugged, deducted the price of a room for the night, said Adam had better see the police about getting new papers, then took him upstairs.
Adam would have given a great deal for a bath, but had to make do with sluicing himself down with water from a tap in a stone floored washroom at the end of the passage. He then went out again to reconnoitre the harbour and find out where each of the three ships was bound for.
From a wharf hand with whom he got into conversation he learned that one ship was only a coastal trader, another was taking aboard a mixed cargo for Havana, and that the United States tramp had come across from Campeche with a cargo of sisal; she was now calling at Boca to load fruit on her open decks before proceeding to New York.
The American was obviously the best choice if he could get aboard her, as in New York he would at once be able to get money from his American literary agents and, on their vouching for his identity, he would have no difficulty in securing a new passport From the British Consul General. But, as she was not alongside the lock, there could be no easy business of slipping over her side in the middle of the night; so to stow away in her presented a major problem. It seemed that his only chance was to persuade one of the crew to help him.
After a hearty midday meal and a siesta, he returned to the dock, sat on a bollard and kept watch on the ship. In due course, as he expected, several of the crew put off in a boat to come ashore "for an evening's amusement. On landing they formed two groups of nine seamen or stokers and three officers, then separated, the officers evidently heading for a somewhat better place than the ratings would patronize. Adam had intended to scrape acquaintance with the members of the crew, but he chanced to overhear a fair haired, freckle faced young officer with the rings of a Second Engineer speak to his two companions in a broad Scottish accent. Following a hunch, he tailed the three men to a cafe that looked about the best the small port had to offer.
Giving them a few minutes to settle down, he went in, took up a position near them at the bar, ordered himself a Scotch and soda and plonked down a hundred peso note to pay for it. As he did so they gave him a curious glance, for his appearance was that of a down and out Mexican who would not ordinarily have ordered such a drink or have been able to afford it. They went on talking and took no further notice of him.
Having waited until the glasses of two of them were empty, he looked along at the Engineer and, reverting to the accent he had had before going to Marlborough, said, `M' name's Adam McTavish, an' seeing we baith hail fra north o' the border, I'd like tae stand ye an' ye're friends a drink.'
They looked at him in some surprise, then readily accepted. Other rounds followed and they were soon all talking in a most friendly fashion. The young Engineer, whose name was Bruce Sinclair, came from Glasgow; the others the ship's First Officer and `Sparks' were Americans. Adam gave them a partially true and partially false account of himself. Having spoken of his time in the Royal Navy, he post dated his trip as a supercargo who had been left high and dry at Recife, then spun a yarn that he had worked his way north through Venezuela, Panama and Guatemala to Mexico where, for the past few months, he had acted as a foreman in a silver mine.
Later they all had a meal together, during which Adam drew lavishly on his novelist's imagination to recount amusing fictitious happenings in which he had played a part while on his way up from Brazil. After they had eaten, he found an opportunity to leave them for a few minutes, get an order slip from one of the waiters and write on it:
`I have a good proposition to put up to you if you can meet me here alone for a meal at two o'clock tomorrow.'
By that time they were all half seas over, so he had no difficulty in slipping the note into Sinclair's hand unobserved by the others. The young man read it under cover of the marble topped table to which they had adjourned, and nodded. Roundabout midnight Adam, by then well loaded himself, saw his new friends off from the dock with mutual expressions of undying friendship.
Next day he went to the cafe well before two o'clock and wondered anxiously whether Sinclair would turn up or if, having been decidedly tight the previous night, he would have forgotten
their appointment. But on the hour, with his nautical cap at a Jaunty angle over his freckled face, the young Engineer joined him. Until they had enjoyed a good meal, Adam refused to satisfy his companion's curiosity. Then he said, `See you, Bruce, I'm in trouble. While I was working in that mine I came on a cache of old Indian jewellery, really valuable stuff. I didn't see why I should turn it in to the management, so I decided to make off with it. Unfortunately, I was rumbled and there was one hell of a row. They ran me for stealing antiques rightly belonging to the Mexican government, and I was given six months. Five weeks later I had a lucky break and managed to escape from prison. Being a cautious chap, I had hidden a few of the things I had come upon; so they didn't get them all back, and I collected the rest. But they had taken away my passport; so, although I've got several thousand pounds' worth of loot in my pockets, I can't get out of this damned country. Now, if I make it well worth your while, are you game to help me?'