"Smart, ain't ye, ye loafer!" said Mike, disdainfully.
Patterson did not notice this remark, or any other of the many with which Mike assailed him while they waited for an incoming boat to discharge its cargo. When at length the gates were opened for the waiting vehicles, Mike was on the alert to take advantage of any opening that might occur to enable him to forge ahead, but none occurred.
Policemen and ferry officials kept the teams to their places, and if Mike had attempted a trick, he would have been compelled to go back, and thus lose more than he could have gained.
One by one the carriages and wagons went on board, and just after Patterson had passed the barrier the gates were closed.
"Hold on there!" howled Mike, beside himself with disappointment and rage, "don't yees see I've got to get aboard?"
The gateman laughed and told him to make himself easy; and Patterson, from his place at the very stern of the ferryboat, stood up in his seat and beckoned to Mike ironically.
The unhappy chap fumed in vain and got down to tell Clara about it.
"We're shook, miss, shook entirely," he said despondently.
When Clara understood the unfortunate meaning of his words, and saw that Poubalov had won in another skirmish, she herself was in a quandary.