Mr. Lewis hailed a taxi, and they were whirled through the busy streets to the docks, where, at some point, their steamer, the Zanzibar, was anchored.
“What do you think of her, boys?”
It was Mr. Holton’s voice as a little later the four explorers found themselves peering ahead at the ship on which they were to embark.
“I hardly know,” returned Bob, who was somewhat disappointed at sight of the vessel. “Suppose you answer that question, Dad, Mr. Lewis.”
“I’m afraid we’re a bit stung,” muttered his father, gazing at the Zanzibar.
The steamer was far from modern in appearance; its sides were beginning to look rusty, and the cabin was badly lacking in paint. About two hundred feet long, it looked as though it had seen many years’ service.
“Will that take us all the way to Africa?” demanded Joe, who was almost at the point of anger.
“We’ll probably get there,” returned his father. “But how!”
“Why didn’t you pick a better boat?” asked Bob. “The passage wouldn’t have cost any more, would it?”