He was unshakeable, however, and the next morning we closed the
laboratory and loaded our baggage, which was considerable, on a
taxicab.
Neither of us said much, but I saw a quick look of appreciation on
Craig's face as we pulled up at the wharf and saw that the Dodge
car was already there. He seemed deeply moved that Elaine should
come at such an early hour to have a last word.
Our cab stopped and Kennedy moved over toward her car, directing
two porters, whom I noticed that he chose with care, to wait at
one side. One of them was an old Irishman with a slight limp; the
other a wiry Frenchman with a pointed beard.
In spite of her pleadings, however, Kennedy held to his purpose
and, as we shook hands for the last time, I thought that Elaine
would almost break down.
"Here, you fellows, now," directed Craig, turning brusquely to the
porters, "hustle that baggage right aboard."
"Can't we go on the ship, too?" asked Elaine, appealingly.
"I'm sorry--I'm afraid there isn't time," apologized Craig.
We finally tore ourselves away, followed by the porters carrying
as much as they could.
"Bon voyage!" cried Elaine, bravely keeping back a choke in her
voice.
Near the gangplank, in the crowd, I noticed a couple of sinister
faces watching the ship's officers and the passengers going
aboard.
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