She came presently. "I gave it to Miss Huttle, Mr. Lavis. Into her own hand, sir."
"Thank you, Hannah."
Lavis left his room and descended deep down into the ship, to where a man in dungarees, but with an officer's cap of authority, was perched on a horizontal grating poring over the speed register. Over his shoulder Lavis watched the numerals shift—seven, eight, nine, thirty. One, two—eight, nine, forty. Click, click, click, click—he watched them until the officer turned and saw him.
"Ho, I was beginning to think you'd given me the go-by for to-night." They shook hands.
"Isn't it the most beautiful mechanism ever made by the hand of man!" exclaimed the officer. "A watch is nothing to it. And what you see here cost more than twenty thousand watches—twenty thousand of 'em, and every danged watch in a gold case."
He drew out his own gun-metal stop-watch. "I'll time her now for a hundred revolutions."
He caught the time, set it down in a little notebook, and from it slowly but surely reckoned her speed. "Grand, grand!" he said softly. "Will you come along? Good!"
They descended and ascended many narrow iron ladders and made their way through many narrow, grimy passageways. Oilers, stokers, coal-passers, water-tenders straightened up to give them a greeting as they passed. In one boiler-room a stoker was scooping a dipper through the water-pail at his feet as they entered.
"Are we holding our own this watch, Mr. Linnell?" He held the dipper respectfully in suspense for the answer.