A steward passed.
"Any more for the shore?"
"Which shore?" asked Jimmy. "Well, Spike——"
"Good-by, Mr. Chames."
"Good-by," said Jimmy. "And good luck!"
* * * * *
Two tugs attached themselves excitedly to the liner's side. The great ship began to move slowly from the shore. Jimmy stood at the water side, and watched her. The rails were lined with gesticulating figures. In the front row, Spike waved his hat with silent vigor.
The sun had gone behind the clouds. As the ship slid out on its way, a stray beam pierced the grayness.
It shone on a red head.