Stories of Ships and the Sea eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 55 pages of information about Stories of Ships and the Sea.

All this took time.  More than an hour and a half had elapsed since his arrival at the empty car.  And now, for the first time, he dropped out of his saddle and down into the car.  He removed the detaining ropes, and the trolley-wheel began slowly to revolve.  The car was moving, and he knew that somewhere beyond, although he could not see, the car of Spillane was likewise moving, and in the opposite direction.

There was no need for a brake, for his weight sufficiently counterbalanced the weight in the other car; and soon he saw the cliff rising out of the cloud depths and the old familiar drum going round and round.

Jerry climbed out and made the car securely fast.  He did it deliberately and carefully, and then, quite unhero-like, he sank down by the drum, regardless of the pelting storm, and burst out sobbing.

There were many reasons why he sobbed—­partly from the pain of his hand, which was excruciating; partly from exhaustion; partly from relief and release from the nerve-tension he had been under for so long; and in a large measure for thankfulness that the man and woman were saved.

They were not there to thank him; but somewhere beyond that howling, storm-driven gulf he knew they were hurrying over the trail toward the Clover Leaf.

Jerry staggered to the cabin, and his hand left the white knob red with blood as he opened the door, but he took no notice of it.

He was too proudly contented with himself, for he was certain that he had done well, and he was honest enough to admit to himself that he had done well.  But a small regret arose and persisted in his thoughts—­if his father had only been there to see!


Somewhere along Theater Street he had lost it.  He remembered being hustled somewhat roughly on the bridge over one of the canals that cross that busy thoroughfare.  Possibly some slant-eyed, light-fingered pickpocket was even then enjoying the fifty-odd yen his purse had contained.  And then again, he thought, he might have lost it himself, just lost it carelessly.

Hopelessly, and for the twentieth time, he searched in all his pockets for the missing purse.  It was not there.  His hand lingered in his empty hip-pocket, and he woefully regarded the voluble and vociferous restaurant-keeper, who insanely clamored:  “Twenty-five sen!  You pay now!  Twenty-five sen!”

“But my purse!” the boy said.  “I tell you I’ve lost it somewhere.”

Whereupon the restaurant-keeper lifted his arms indignantly and shrieked:  “Twenty-five sen!  Twenty-five sen!  You pay now!”

Quite a crowd had collected, and it was growing embarrassing for Alf Davis.

It was so ridiculous and petty, Alf thought.  Such a disturbance about nothing!  And, decidedly, he must be doing something.  Thoughts of diving wildly through that forest of legs, and of striking out at whomsoever opposed him, flashed through his mind; but, as though divining his purpose, one of the waiters, a short and chunky chap with an evil-looking cast in one eye, seized him by the arm.

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Stories of Ships and the Sea from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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