“Yah, yah; I’ll be ridin’ like a gentleman!”
The journey was successfully accomplished, but it took an hour, for, according to directions, the hackman did not force his pace, but drove slowly, till he reached the North River pier indicated.
At the pier was a large, stanch vessel—the Columbia—bound for San Francisco, around Cape Horn.
All was dark, but the second officer was pacing the deck.
Curtis Waring hailed him.
“What time do you get off?”
“Early to-morrow morning.”
“So the captain told me. I have brought you a passenger.”
“The captain told me about him.”
“Is his stateroom ready?”