And Smith, for the first time in a week, burst into a shout of laughter.
"If Smith can smile that way," said the Baker, "there ain't nothing very wrong, not to say reely wrong. But when 'e bites that 'air moustache of 'is, and shuts 'is eyes, that's when I funk it, day or night. What's o'clock, Smith?"
"It's five-and-twenty to three, by the clock on Bow Church," said Smith.
"Gahn," said the Baker. And they went on through the sand in silence.
Presently Smith stopped.
"Did you hear anything, Baker?" he asked.
"Distant thunder," said the Baker.
"Um," said Smith, "I don't know."
But he walked on again.
"D'ye reely think we shall strike that bloomin' river agin, Smith?" he asked.