"
"It isn't a joke at all. I want you to arrange it. But meanwhile, how
would you like a whiff of salt air this evening?"
"First rate. How will I get it?"
"The _Savoie_ will get to quarantine about six o'clock. I'm going
down on our boat to meet her. I want to have a talk with Inspector
Pigot--the French detective. Will you come along?"
"Will I!" I said. "Where shall I meet you?"
"At the foot of Liberty Street, at five o'clock."
"I'll be there," I promised. And I was.
The boat was cast loose as soon as we got aboard, backed out into the
busy river, her whistle shrieking shrilly, then swung about and
headed down stream. It was a fast boat--the _Record_, which prided
itself on outdistancing its contemporaries in other directions, would
of course try to do so in this--and when she got fairly into her
stride, with her engines throbbing rhythmically, the shore on either
hand slipped past us rapidly.
The New York sky-line, as seen from the river, is one of the wonders
of the world, and I stood looking at it until we swung out into the
bay. There were two other men on board--the regular ship reporters, I
suppose--and Godfrey had gone into the cabin with them to talk over
some detail of the evening's work; so I went forward to the bow,
where I would get the full benefit of the salt breeze, with the taste
of it on my lips.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251