"There's one."
Frank pointed out a young man with weak eyes and auburn hair, a London clerk, who visited the United States on a business errand, and was now returning. He was at this moment standing on deck, with his arms folded, looking out to sea.
"I guess I'll go and speak to him," said Mr. Tarbox. "May be he can help me introduce my plow in London."
Frank watched with some amusement the interview between Mr. Tarbox and the London clerk, which he shrewdly suspected was not likely to lead to any satisfactory results.
Mr. Tarbox approached the Englishman from behind, and unceremoniously slapped him on the back.
The clerk whirled round suddenly and surveyed Mr. Tarbox with mingled surprise and indignation.
"What did you say?" he inquired.
"How are you, old hoss?"
"Do you mean to call me a 'oss?"