"Oh, I don't see any sense in shouting 'On board' of anything, when the whole trouble is that we're not on board."
There was an echo from a building across the inlet—an insulting echo—which repeated the phrase, or rather the last three letters of the last word in an irritating fashion.
"I feel like one," said Mr. Daddles, "but I don't like to be told so by a blooming old echo."
Then we all stood and looked at one another, and wondered what we should do.
"Friendless and alone, in a strange place," said Mr. Daddles.
"Wet," said Ed Mason.
"Hungry," I added.
"Tired," said Jimmy.
"With no money," remarked Mr. Daddles.
"And nothing that we could do with it, if we had it," Jimmy Toppan gloomily reflected, shoving his hands deep into his trousers pockets.