For those who fished there would be no fish in the net.

This fog--like a kindly hand reaching down from heaven! Five minutes later the taxicab drew up in front of a hotel.

The unknown stepped out, took a leather purse from his pocket and carefully counted out in silver two dollars and twenty cents, which he poured into the chauffeur's palm.
"Thank you, sir." "You are an American ?" "Sure! I was born in this burg." "Like the idea ?" "Huh ?" "The idea of being an American ?" "I should say yes! This is one grand little gob o' mud, believe me! It's going to be dry in a little while, and then it will be some grand little old brick.

Say, let me give you a tip! The gas in this joint is extra if you blow it out!" Grinning, the chauffeur threw on the power and wheeled away into the fog.
His late fare followed the vehicle with his gaze until it reached the vanishing point, then he laughed.

An American cockney! He turned and entered the hotel.