Steve
counted three chins and was not certain there wasn't another tucked away
behind the collar of the huge shirt. Mr. Hyatt had a deep and mellow
voice, and his words rolled and rumbled out like the reverberations of a
good-natured thunder storm. From the windows of the bright, breeze-swept
office the boys could look far out to sea, and it was possible that the
faintly nautical atmosphere that appertained both to the office and its
occupant was due to the sight and smell of the salt water. While Steve
told his story the lawyer's expression slowly changed from jovial
amusement to surprise, and when the narrative was ended he drew himself
ponderously from the chair and rolled to a window.
"You say you've got her tied up to Sawyer's Wharf, eh?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"I want to know! Well! Well! Where'd you say you came across her?" Steve
told him again. "And you brought her in yourself, eh?"
"The lot of us did. Now what we want to know is what claim have we got
against the owners, Mr. Hyatt?"
The lawyer heaved himself back to his chair and lowered himself into it
with what the boys thought was a most reckless disregard of the
article's capacity and strength. But the chair only creaked dismally.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263