unparalleled sagacity, I immediately perceived the true state of affairs."
"Are you a professor?" Jerry asked.
"Heavens, no!" our man laughed. "Why do you ask?"
"On account of your style," Jerry said. "It's so grand and stately. So are your letters, sometimes."
"I am but a poor bridge-builder," the Bottle Man said, "but I can turn words on or off as I want 'em, like a hose."
By this time the boat was almost in, and our man brought it up neatly to the float beside the ferry-slip, and some men came over and helped him to moor it. Then he got out and came back in a minute with the man who always meets the ferry in an automobile to hire. The man looked as if he were in a dazy dream, which I don't blame him for at all, because we did look quite weird. He and the Bottle Man lifted Gregg, mattress and all, and stowed
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