"I'm with you there," agreed Berwick. "I may have been hungrier in my life before, but I can't remember."
"No Russian Duke this time to help you out, eh?" queried Jim.
"Don't mention that," cried the engineer; "I'm in no need of an appetiser."
If you have read "Frontier Boys in The Sierras," you will recall the chief engineer's account of his experience while traveling from St. Petersburg to the frontier, when he appropriated the Grand Duke's hamper while his Highness was wrapped in the deep stupor of sleep. He had told it with much nerve and vivacity, and Jim could recollect very clearly the scene in the warm engine-room of the Sea Eagle, with the stormy rain sweeping the decks outside, and the good old crowd of Juarez, and the boys, listening to the engineer.
"I have a hunch that we are going to get something to eat soon," remarked Jim encouragingly.
"Shall we strike the trail back to the city, and return in the small wee hours to call on our friends in the castle?" asked Berwick.
"No need of that," replied Jim; "I am sure we can find a place to eat down by the beach."
They had a little difficulty in finding a break in the cliffs that walled the water front, but finally they discovered a cleft in the solid rock and they were able to make a steep descent over broken bowlders. They were halfway down when Jim stopped so abruptly that the engineer stumbled against him.
"See that man sitting against that rock," he whispered; "he looks as if he were asleep."
"Maybe drunk," remarked John Berwick.