“To the Pennsylvania station,” answered Rex.
“Then you’ve come too far. You ought to have got off at Cortlandt Street.”
“Is it too far to walk back?” asked Rex, mindful of his small supply of money.
“About three stations. You can keep along the river. It’ll be nearer that way.”
“Thank you,” returned Rex. He wasn’t in a hurry. He might as well walk. But he was terribly sleepy, and when he got to the foot of the stairway, he became rather confused.
He heard the water washing against the sea wall. He walked on in the direction of the sound and found himself standing at the very end of Manhattan Island looking toward the bay.
It was very quiet except for the light splash of the waves and the soft sound of escaping steam from an engine overhead. Rex was not certain in which direction he ought to go to reach the ferry. There seemed to be water on both sides of him.
There was nobody around of whom to inquire except a tramp or two asleep on one of the benches, and he did not wish to go near them. He turned away from the river and walked off through Battery Park till he saw a policeman.
The latter directed him how to go, looking at him pretty sharply. Rex hurried off, but presently stopped under a lamp post to glance at his watch. It was a quarter to two. There was no need to hurry.
But he was afraid to walk slow. It was very quiet along the water front at this time of night. He did not want to be “held up” again and lose his watch and what little money he had left.