Also, could he have told him what was wrong with the little finger on his left hand.

Daughtry had first diagnosed it as a sprain of a tendon.

Later, he had decided it was chronic rheumatism brought on by the damp and foggy Sun Francisco climate.

It was one of his reasons for desiring to get away again to sea where the tropic sun would warm the rheumatism out of him.
As a steward, Daughtry had been accustomed to contact with men and women of the upper world.

But for the first time in his life, here in the underworld of San Francisco, in all equality he met such persons from above.