The man pointed a little way down the harbor.
“She’s not in dock, sir,” he said. “She’s lying out yonder. You’ll barely catch her, I’m afraid,” he added, glancing at the clock.
They hurried to the edge of the quay.
“Look here,” Quest cried, raising his voice, “I’ll give a ten pound note to any one who gets me out to the Barton before she sails.”
The little party were almost thrown into a tug, and in a few minutes they were skimming across the smooth water. Just as they reached the steamer, however, she began to move.
“Run up alongside,” Quest ordered.
“She won’t stop, sir,” the Captain of the tug replied doubtfully. “She is an hour late, as it is.”
“Do as I tell you,” Quest insisted.
They raced along by the side of the great steamer. An officer came to the rail and shouted down to them.
“What do you want?”