I wrote my cheque at a desk, and I declare I could never have recognised my signature. Jim was gone in a moment; Trent had vanished even earlier; only Bellairs remained, exchanging insults with the auctioneer; and, behold! as I pushed my way out of the exchange, who should run full tilt into my arms but the messenger boy!
It was by so near a margin that we became the owners of the Flying Scud.
[3] A low lawyer.
CHAPTER X
IN WHICH THE CREW VANISH
At the door of the exchange I found myself alongside of the short middle-aged gentleman who had made an appearance, so vigorous and so brief, in the great battle.
“Congratulate you, Mr. Dodd,” he said. “You and your friend stuck to your guns nobly.”