Nevertheless, to the admiration of the
crowd, the speed of the convoy slowly increased.
Tug and dock were well under way when the onlooking line was suddenly
disrupted by a well-dressed youth who came bundling a large suit case
through the press and did not pause until on the edge of the green
moulded wharf.
"Boat!" he hailed in sharp Yankee accent, gesticulating at a public
dory. "Here, put me aboard that dry dock, will you? Hustle! the thing's
gathering way!"
"A little late," observed a voice at the newcomer's elbow.
"Yes, I hung around London Tower trying to see the crown jewels, then I
broke for St. Paul's for a glimpse of Nelson's Monument, then I ran down
to Marshalsea, where Little Dorrit's father--make haste there, you
slowpoke water-rat! Rotton London bus service threw me six minutes
late!" he concluded.
The American's explosive energy quickly made him a focus of interest.
"What are you trying to do?" smiled the Englishman, "jump out of a
Cook's tour into a floating dock?"
The American turned on the joker and saw a tall, well-set-up young
fellow with extraordinarily broad shoulders, long brown face, stubby
blond mustache, who looked down on him with amused gray eyes.
"In a way," grinned the man with the suit case. "I'm knocking about all
over the map, trying to see if the world is really round.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25