“If you can get Collier home quickly enough, Locke,” said Stillman, “there’s a chance that you may be able to spike the enemy’s guns, even at this late hour.”
“I’m going to make a swift play for that chance,” returned Lefty.
CHAPTER XXXIII
ONE IN A MILLION
The clerk of the Great Eastern surveyed with interest the swarthy small man in the bright green suit and the plaid raglan overcoat, who leaned an elbow on the desk and jauntily twirled a light cane, puffing at an excellent Havana cigar.
“Beyond a modicum of a doubt you have me, your excellency,” said the stranger. “I’m the real thing, the only and original Cap’n Wiley. It is frequently embarrassing to be encumbered by fame, and my modesty often compels me to travel incog-nit-o; but just now, having a yearning desire to hobnob with my old college chump, Lefty Locke, I am blushingly compelled to reveal my identity. When Lefty learns that I am here he will fly like a bird to greet me. Notify one of yon brass-buttoned minions to inform him of my immediate proximity.”
“Mr. Locke is out at present,” said the man behind the desk, winking slyly at a fellow clerk; “but if you will leave your card–”
“If one isn’t sufficient, I’ll leave the whole pack of fifty-two. It is my habit to carry a deck with me for emergencies. Perchance, however, you can tell me when Lefty is liable to return.”
At that moment Locke, coming in, saw the sailor, and hurried forward. The Marine Marvel teetered to meet him, beaming broadly. They shook hands, and Locke drew the sailor toward two vacant chairs.
“Jones?” questioned Lefty as they sat down. “Where is he? How is he?”