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Updated: June 3, 2025
"So did I, but it seems that Kenwardine came to Stuyvesant and offered him as much as he wanted." "Kenwardine!" Dick exclaimed. Bethune lighted his pipe. "Yes, Kenwardine. As the wharf's supposed to be owned by Spaniards, I don't see what he has to do with it, unless he's recently bought them out. Anyhow, it's high-grade navigation coal."
He slipped the box in my coat-pocket, and then he said 'is mind was so relieved that 'e felt like 'arf a pint. I was for going to the Bear's Head, the place I generally go to, because it is next door to the wharf, so to speak, but George wanted me to try the beer at another place he knew of. "The wharf's all right," he ses.
The hand lamps on the shelf wore speckled brown-paper bags inverted over their chimneys. A portrait of a man playing the violin hung out, in massive gilt, over the table, like a ship's figurehead projecting over a wharf's end. His red couch bore northeast and southwest, so that he might not lose good sleep by opposing his body to the flow of magnetic currents.
Willis liked to see the pile-driver with its big hammer. He marveled at the air-pumps with which sagging wharves were raised. Perhaps three air-pumps at a time would be stationed over as many "caps," as the twelve-inch timbers under the wharf's flooring were called. The pumps, being worked, would raise the caps and hold them until blocks could be shoved underneath.
Leicester left Betty suddenly and went to the wharf's edge. "Did you have any trouble bringing her up?" he asked. "Bless ye, no, sir," said the packet's skipper; "didn't hinder us one grain; had a clever little breeze right astern all the way up." "Look here, Betty," said papa, returning presently.
"The wharf's up beyond the second bridge the Covington Bridge," explained Waterbury with the air of the old experienced globe-trotter. "There's a third one, further up, but you can't see it for the smoke." And he went on and on, volubly airing his intimate knowledge of the great city which he visited once a year for two or three days to buy goods.
But the squat and stubby old sailor stood little show in a foot-race with his gaunt and sinewy adversary. It was undoubtedly Colonel Ward's knowledge of this that now led him to make the race the test of victory instead of depending on an interpreter over the telephone. A little more than a block from the wharf's lane he came up with and passed his adversary.
Here the heavy, slow surge of the tug was effectually checked. Captain Marsh turned his wide grin of triumph toward his passengers. Everybody laughed, and prepared to disembark. Between the gunwale and the wharf's edge could be seen a narrow glinting strip of very black water. The Robert O slowly approached and receded from the dock; and this strip of water correspondingly widened and narrowed.
How beautiful it was this salt shroud from the sea! How it eddied and funneled and whorled, now massing thick like frosted glass, now thinning to a web of tissue. Suddenly, while he watched, a lane broke through. He saw clearly the piles at the wharf's end, a glimpse of dark water, and, between him and it, a figure huddled in a cloak a female figure, also sitting upon an upturned keg.
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