“Congressman Everdean?” repeated the all-knowing young gentleman. “Yes. He's in town. Has rooms at the Gloria; second hotel on the right as you go up the avenue. Only a short walk. What can I do for you, sir?”
The Gloria was an even bigger hotel than the one where the captain had his “berth.” An inquiry at the desk, of another important clerk, was answered with a brisk:
“Mr. Everdean? Yes, he rooms here. Don't know whether he's in or not. Evening, judge. Nice Winter weather we're having.”
The judge, who was a ponderous person vaguely suggesting the great Heman, admitted that the weather was fine, patronizing it as he did so. The clerk continued the conversation. Captain Cy waited. At length he spoke.
“Excuse me, commodore,” he said; “I don't like to break in until you've settled whether you have it snow or not, but I'm here to see Congressman Everdean. Hadn't you better order one of your fo'mast hands to hunt him up?”
The judge condescended to smile, as did several other men who stood near. The clerk reddened.
“Do you want to see Mr. Everdean?” he snapped.
“Why, yes, I did. But I can't see him from here without strainin' my eyesight.”
The clerk sharply demanded one of the captain's visiting cards. He didn't get one, for the very good reason that there was none in existence.
“Tell him an old friend of his dad's is here on the main deck waitin' for him,” said Captain Cy. “That'll do first rate. Thank you, admiral.”