“Too bad it had to be built, isn’t it?” said Roy. “It cuts your harbor in half, I suppose. If it weren’t for that you could sail ships clear around the island.”
“We can, anyway,” replied the superintendent. “There’s a roller lift bridge spanning the channel that lifts straight up to let ships pass through.”
“Well, I never!” exclaimed Roy. “Is there anything you folks haven’t done down here?”
The superintendent’s face glowed with pride. “Yes; that’s a pretty fine causeway,” he said, “but as an engineering feat there’s nothing in Galveston more interesting than our water supply. We get our drinking water from artesian wells on the mainland, the water being carried through huge pipes laid under the Bay.”
“You are certainly a wonderful lot of people, you Galveston folks,” cried Roy.
Again the superintendent smiled with pleasure. Then his face became serious. “We have done a lot of interesting things here,” he said, “but we aren’t a bit different from the rest of the nation. We’re Americans. That explains all these up-to-date achievements. They represent the spirit of America. You’ll find Americans doing the same kind of wonderful things wherever you go—New York, or San Francisco, or here in Galveston.”
“I’m mighty glad I’m an American,” said Roy with emphasis.
“You ought to be, young man. Don’t ever forget that.”
The superintendent went on about his duties and Roy began to look about him again. He wanted to see something of the city itself, but decided to wait until the purser could go with him.
It was not until after luncheon that the purser found time for a stroll with Roy. Then the two set out for a tour of the city. As they came down the gangplank, the harbor-master was passing. Catching sight of the purser, he turned about and hurried over to greet him.