As he drew closer Evan saw that the tickets were being collected by a man at the shore end of the gangway. Here was a proper source of information. This man had the pale and earnest look of the professional philanthropist, a worthy soul, some half a dozen years older than Evan, with a wife and four children undoubtedly. Evan took up a place near him and watched the procession wending aboard with brightening faces.
"You couldn't have a better day for the trip," he hazarded.
The ticket-taker responded amiably: "Great, isn't it? We'll bring 'em back with rosy cheeks."
"Is this the outfit Anway told me about?" asked Evan, feeling his way.
"Yes, the Ozone Association trips. Are you a friend of Anway's? He's just gone aboard."
"He told me so much about it I thought I'd stroll down and take a look."
"Go aboard if you'd like to. We won't be leaving for ten minutes yet."
Evan desired a little further information before trusting himself aboard. "You must need quite a crowd of helpers to look after the kids."
"Miss Playfair takes care of that for me. She's a host in herself."
All the blood seemed to leave Evan's heart for a moment, and then came surging back until it seemed as if that much-tried organ would burst. He heard his informant saying: