Bob looked at Tommie and Tommie looked at Bob. They were really puzzled to think what the Captain could mean.
"The other eight?" asked Bob.
"Yes," said Hawkins. "You boys ain't the only grandchildren I've got. I love you, but you ain't the only ones I love. There's at least eight more. And what do you suppose I'm goin' to give you all for Christmas?"
The boys gave it up.
"Well," said the Captain, in a whisper, "as I was a-comin' up Broadway a-lookin' into the windows, all of a sudden I see a hoss-car goin' along without a hoss, and I says goodness gracious that's funny. A hoss-car without a hoss, an' what was queerest of all, no trolley! Boys, it scaret me. Me who was never scaret before was scaret then. So I says to a policeman, 'Great scott! Mr. Constable, say, what makes that car go so fast?' 'It's the cable,' says he. My goodness thinks I, I'm sorry for the man that has to pull it, but I jumps aboard one of 'em, pays my five cents, and I have the finest sail from Forty-second Street to the Battery you ever see. No wind, no steam, nothin' in sight to move you, but movin' just the same, just as if you was on a sled slidin' down a hill. It was fine. Goin' around by Fourteenth Street you got lurched like as if you was at sea, an' then with a clear track and no squalls we just bounded down past Canal and Wall streets to Bowlin' Green, and back as slick as anything. And I says to myself, Cap'n Hawkins you've struck it. Don't give the boys no pails, no Jims-in-the-boxes, no spades, no nothin', but get the whole ten of 'em together and give 'em a ride on the cable-car whether you're sorry for the feller that pulls the rope or not. So I'm goin' back to Bemberton for the other eight, and when you boys are free I want you to join us for a sail from Central Park down and back, eh?"