“And I never had any,” said Ole.
The party left the steamer’s office, and were unable to devise any means of overcoming the obstacle. They went to the Hotel Rydberg again, and consulted the porter, who had been very kind to them before. This functionary is entirely different in European hotels from those of the same name in the United States. He stands at the entrance, usually dressed in uniform, to answer all inquiries of guests, and to do all that is required of the clerks in American hotels. He assured the anxious inquirers that, even if they got into Russia, their passports would be immediately demanded, and that no one could remain in any city there over night without one. The American minister in Stockholm would give them the required documents.
“But Ole, here, is a Norwegian,” suggested Sanford.
“No matter. Have him put into your passport as your courier or servant.”
“All right; we will see him to-morrow,” replied the coxswain; and the problem seemed to be solved.
The next day they went to the American legation, but the minister had gone to Upsala for a week, and the secretary declined to issue the passports, because the boys could not prove that they were citizens of the United States. Vexed and discouraged, they wandered about the city till Friday noon, when an English steamer came into port. They stood on the quay, watching the movements of the passengers as they landed. They had almost concluded to take a steamer to Stettin, Lübeck, or some other port in Germany; but Russia was a strange land, and they were not willing to abandon the idea of seeing its sights.
“I wonder whether this steamer goes any farther,” said Stockwell.
“I don’t know,” added Sanford.
“Perhaps she goes to St. Petersburg. It may be her officers are not so particular about the confounded passports.”
“But you can’t stay in Russia over night without one, even if you get there.”