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. Got a job
aboard that dock--going with her to Buenos Aires--Say, slow-boy, is that
dory of yours anchored, or is it really coming this way?"

"Coomin' that way, sor!" wheezed the waterman from below.

"That's a coincidence," observed the stranger, twirling his pale
mustache. "I had a berth on her, too." He indicated a huge English kit
bag at his feet.