"That's what has made me
wet."
"It's sure made you wet all right," agreed the girl. She looked at him
interestedly. "Wotcha do it for?" she asked.
"Do it for?"
"Yes, wotcha do it for? How come? Wotcha do a Brodie for off'n that
ship? I didn't see it myself, but pa says you come walloping down off'n
the deck like a sack of potatoes."
Sam uttered a sharp cry. He had remembered.
"Where is she?"
"Where's who?"
"The liner."
"She's off down the river, I guess. She was swinging round, the last I
seen of her."
"She's not gone?"
"Sure she's gone. Wotcha expect her to do? She's gotta to get over to
the other side, ain't she? Cert'nly she's gone." She looked at him
interested. "Do you want to be on board her?"
"Of course I do."
"Then, for the love of Pete, wotcha doin' walloping off'n her like a
sack of potatoes?"
"I slipped. I was pushed or something." Sam sprang to his feet and
looked wildly about him. "I must get back. Isn't there any way of
getting back?"
"Well, you could catch up with her at quarantine out in the bay.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61