He turned northward and followed the shore, jumped a small wire fence and found himself in a great disorderly yard adjoining a dock.

The hulls of many boats in various stages of repair were around him; he smelled sawdust and paint and the scarcely distinguishable fiat odor of the Hudson.

A man approached through the heavy gloom.
"Hello," said Amory.
"Got a pass ?" "No.

Is this private ?" "This is the Hudson River Sporting and Yacht Club." "Oh! I didn't know.

I'm just resting." "Well--" began the man dubiously.
"I'll go if you want me to." The man made non-committal noises in his throat and passed on.