“Here are some other fellows you know,” remarked Bert, as he beckoned to Tom and Dick who came over from the rail.
They needed no introduction. A flood of memories swept over them as they shook hands. They saw again the automobile race, when Ralph in the “Gray Ghost” and Bert at the wheel of the “Red Scout” had struggled for the mastery. Before their eyes rose the crowded stands; they heard the deafening cheers and the roar of the exhausts; they saw again that last desperate spurt, when, with the throttle wide open, the “Red Scout” had challenged its gallant enemy in the stretch and flashed over the line, a winner.
That Ralph remembered it too was evident from the merry twinkle in his eyes, as he looked from one to the other of the group.
“You made me take your dust that day, all right,” he said, “but I’ve never felt sore over that for a minute. It was a fair and square race, and the best car and the best driver won.”
“Not on your life,” interjected Bert, warmly. “The best car, perhaps, but not the best driver. You got every ounce of speed out of your machine that anyone could, and after all it was only a matter of inches at the finish.”
“Well, it was dandy sport, anyway, win or lose,” returned Ralph. “By the way, I have the ‘Gray Ghost’ with me now. It’s crated up on the forward deck, and will be put down in the hold to-morrow. So come along now, and take a look at it.”
There, sure enough, was the long, powerful, gray car, looking “fit to run for a man’s life,” as Ralph declared, while he patted it affectionately.
“I thought I’d bring it along,” he said, “to use while we are in port at our various stopping places. It will take a good many days to unload, and then ship our return cargo, and, if the roads are good, we’ll show the natives some new wrinkles in the way of fancy driving. We’re all of us auto fiends, and I want you to feel that the car is as much yours as mine, all through the trip. That is,” he added, mischievously, “if you fellows don’t feel too haughty to ride in a car that you’ve already beaten.”
With jest and laughter, the time passed rapidly. The evening deepened, and a hush fell over the waters of the bay. Lanterns twinkled here and there like fireflies among the shipping, while from an occasional boat rose the tinkling of a banjo or guitar. From the shore side came the night sounds of the great city, sitting proudly on her many hills and crowned with innumerable lights. Silence gathered over the little group, as they gazed, and each was busy with his own thoughts. This loved land of theirs—by this time to-morrow, it would be out of sight below the horizon. Who knew when they would see it again, or through what perils they might pass before they once more touched its shores? It was the little shiver before the plunge, as they stood upon the brink of the unknown; and they were a trifle more quiet than usual, when at last they said good-night and sought forgetfulness in sleep.