tance. And finally Speedy's destination was attained. The dilapidated, half-tumbled-down Lincoln Ferry Slip was directly in front of them.
"Here's where I get out," Speedy informed the accommodating driver.
"How are you? All there?" inquired that individual good-naturedly. "If you're broken up, I'll take you right along up to the hospital."
But Speedy was already on the ground, King Tut at his feet.
"Thanks a million times," he said. "You saved my life. Good luck the rest of your trip."
"I'll take it easy and cool this baby off before I deliver her," said the driver. "We were supposed to have repaired her. I guess maybe I loosened her up again."
"I hope not," said Speedy, impatient to be off.
"Don't worry," said the driver and in a second had turned around and was proceeding back up the street at a decorous pace.
Speedy at once walked briskly up to the weather-beaten ferry house. The place had not been in active use for twenty years and it was a miracle it had not long since been torn down to make way for the huge modern piers that lined the river on both sides of it. Directly in front of Speedy was the open runway of the ferry slip, reaching from street to river, down which wagons used to rumble to the boats. This was still covered with a roof, though the roof was fast caving in from age. The covering was enough to cast the runway into dark shadows and Speedy saw that a close inspection would
