He had his key, and knew the number, but it seemed that there were about a thousand of the little doors.
"One hundred and seventy-six is mine," he said; "and I'm going to put away my satchel and go on deck and see the river. Here it is at last. Why, it's a kind of little bedroom! It's as good as a floating hotel. Now I'm all right."
Suddenly he was aware, with a great thrill of pleasure, that the Columbia was in motion. He left his satchel in a corner, locked the door of the stateroom behind him, and set out to find his way to the deck. He went down-stairs and up-stairs, ran against people, and was run against by them; and it occurred to him that all the passengers were hunting for something they could not find.
"Looking for staterooms, I guess," he remarked aloud; but he himself should not have been staring behind him, for at that moment he felt the whack of a collision, and a pair of heavy arms grasped him.
"What you looks vor yourself, poy? You knocks my breath out! You find somebody you looks vor—eh?"
The tremendous man who held him was not tall, but very heavy, and had a broad face and long black beard and shaggy gray eyebrows.
"Beg pardon!" exclaimed Jack, with a glance at a lady holding one of the man's long arms, and at two other ladies following them.
"You vas got your stateroom?" asked his round-faced captor good-humoredly.
"Oh, yes!" said Jack. "I've got one."
"You haf luck. Dell you vot, poy, it ees a beeg schvindle. Dey say 'passage feefty cent,' und you comes aboard, und you find it is choost so. Dot's von passage. Den it ees von dollar more to go in to supper, und von dollar to eat some tings, und von dollar to come out of supper, und some more dollars to go to sleep, und maybe dey sharges you more dollars to vake up in de morning. Dot is not all. Dey haf no more shtateroom left, und ve all got to zeet up all night. Eh? How you like dot, poy?"