One look at his face--red, perspiring and decidedly unhappy--served to cheer his daughter.
"Been down to the steamship offices," he panted, mopping his bald head.
"They're open to-day, just like it was a week day--but they might as well be closed.

There's nothing doing.

Every boat's booked up to the rails; we can't get out of here for two weeks--maybe more." "I'm sorry," said his daughter.
"No, you ain't! You're delighted! You think it's romantic to get caught like this.

Wish I had the enthusiasm of youth." He fanned himself with a newspaper.

"Lucky I went over to the express office yesterday and loaded up on gold.