“Very well; better call you about seven, Mr. Hardlock. Will you have a carriage?”
“No, I shall walk down to the boat. You will be sure, of course, to have my things there in time.”
“Oh, no fear of that. They will be on the steamer by half-past eight.”
“Thank you.”
As Mr. Hardlock walked down to the boat next morning he thought he had done rather a clever thing in sending his trunk in the ordinary way to the steamer. “Most people,” he said to himself, “would have made the mistake of being too careful about it. It goes along in the ordinary course of business. If anything should go wrong it will seem incredible that a sane man would send such a package in an ordinary express waggon to be dumped about, as they do dump luggage about in New York.”
He stood by the gangway on the steamer watching the trunks, valises, and portmanteaus come on board.
“Stop!” he cried to the man, “that is not to go down in the hold; I want it. Don’t you see it’s marked ‘wanted?’”
“It is very large, sir,” said the man; “it will fill up a state-room by itself.”
“I have the captain’s room,” was the answer.
So the man flung the trunk down on the deck with a crash that made even the cool Mr. Hardlock shudder.