All told, making the crate wasn't that hard compared to hiding his alterations to its composition while in the harbor master's warehouse. It was easiest to construct the crate within the place it was to lie until the person who agreed to transport it made an appearance.
The compartment was hidden by a false panel. The panel was held in place with a metal pin. Simple enough to remove, and the one it was going to would have to figure it out. Or else bust it apart with a fire axe. Either way, the idea that this was going to make someone's life easier was almost rewarding enough. The promised pay wasn't too bad either.
There was an awful lot of cloak and dagger about this hand-off. It almost reminded him of the events that precipitated his involvement with the Resistance. A simple errand, handoff unmarked notes to several personages, slip them into pockets, and next thing he knew, a bag had been thrown over his head and he led to a safe house, where he was debriefed. He wondered idly if Archie Swill meant for that to happen, or if it was just a prank meant to get Jobe caught by the Seventen and jailed.
Worthless conjecture anyway. Jobe spat to the side as he leaned against the door leading into the harbor master's warehouse. He was waiting for that person to come, half expecting them to be a Seventen or an agent of the Gollies. While he stood there, he kept an eye out for any stationary types, people who weren't about any particular business. He saw some idlers around, but they were mostly teamsters with no task, men waiting for a box to lug.
Nobody that was paying attention to him... yet.
Jobe wondered what this person's relation to his contact in Vienda was. They said they'd be well dressed, for a human. Unlikely to be mistaken for the run of the mill passerby in the wharves of Old Rose. The fancy types tended to avoid the docks, or arrange a carriage to and from. Either way, fancy folk rarely showed their faces around there.
The sound of footsteps approaching from down the way alerted him to a new presence. He turned his head in the opposite direction, and then toward the source of the sound. He didn't eyeball them, whoever they were, but just stared past them, leaning on his cane against the warehouse wall.