It
was perhaps by the gift of race that he carried himself with
distinction, though the flat straight back and the good shoulders
of the cricketer contributed somewhat, too. Jeff sized him up as a
resolute, clean-cut fellow, happily endowed with many gifts of
fortune to make him the likable chap he was.
Beauchamp threw out some clothes from a steamer trunk and left the
rescued man alone to dress. Ten minutes later he returned.
"Expect you'd like an interview with the barber. I'll take you
round. By the way, you'll let me be your banker till you reach
Verden?"
"Thank you. Since I must."
From the barber shop the Englishman took him to the dining saloon.
"Awfully sorry you can't sit at our table, Mr. Farnum. It's full
up. You're to be at the purser's."
Jeff let a smile escape into his eyes. "Suits me. I've been at the
bos'n's for several weeks."
"Beastly outrage. We'll want to hear all about it. Miss Frome's
tremendously excited. Odd you and she hadn't met before. Didn't
know Verden was such a big town."
"I'm not a society man," explained Jeff. "And it happens I've been
fighting her father politically for years. Miss Frome and Mrs. Van
Tyle are about the last people I would be likely to meet.
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