"He's most generally settin' around the dock. Favorite restin'-place of his. Think I can see him there now."
After a few moments more the Mamie Mead bumped against the dock.
"Our own dock!" cried Dorothy; "oh, isn't it gorgeous!"
Probably such an excited crowd had never before landed from the Mamie Mead. The children all talked at once; Grandma Dorrance seemed rejuvenated by the happy occasion; Tessie was speechless with delight; Dare gave short, sharp barks expressive of deep satisfaction and the canary bird burst into his most jubilant song. Doubtless the kitten was purring contentedly, if not audibly.
The trunks and other luggage were put out on the dock, and Mr. Hickox sauntered up and viewed them with an air of great interest.
"I guess this is where I come in handy," he said, with a broad smile and a deferential bob of his head that somehow seemed to serve as a general introduction all around.
Mr. Hickox was a strange looking man. He was very tall, indeed, by far the tallest man the children had ever seen; and he was also very thin. Or perhaps lean is a more expressive word to describe Mr. Hickox, for he gave no impression of ill-health, or emaciation, but rather the leanness of muscular strength. His brown hair and side-whiskers were touched with gray, and his tanned face was wrinkled, but he did not seem like an old man. His blue eyes twinkled with good-humor, and his voice was delightfully kind.
Instinctively the Dorrance children felt that they had found a friend in this strange man, and they were grateful.
"Could you tell us, sir," said Leicester, "how we are going to get these trunks and things up to the hotel?"
"Well, yes, I can tell you that. I'm going to lug them up myself."