In fact, we were
travelling as fast as an express train. "We just STREAKED it," was
the way Charley told it afterward, and I think his description
comes nearer than any I can give.
As for the Italians in the skiff--hardly had we started, it seemed
to me, when we were on top of them. Naturally, we had to slow down
long before we got to them; but even then we shot past like a
whirlwind and were compelled to circle back between them and the
shore. They had rowed steadily, rising from the thwarts at every
stroke, up to the moment we passed them, when they recognized
Charley and me. That took the last bit of fight out of them. They
hauled in their oars, and sullenly submitted to arrest.
"Well, Charley," Neil Partington said, as we discussed it on the
wharf afterward, "I fail to see where your boasted imagination came
into play this time."
But Charley was true to his hobby. "Imagination?" he demanded,
pointing to the Streak. "Look at that! just look at it! If the
invention of that isn't imagination, I should like to know what
is.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99