To think that he, a smart roundsman of the Broadway squad, should have been bested so thoroughly by a miserable alien chauffeur! The man had merely slipped over the edge of the quay, and clung like a limpet to the rough baulks of timber which faced it; when his pursuers were safely disposed of on board the barge, one cut of a sharp knife had sent them adrift by the stern, while the forward rope, released of any strain, had probably uncoiled itself from a stanchion with the diabolical ingenuity which inanimate objects can display at unlooked-for moments.
"Fling a coil uv line here," continued the speaker.

"This fag ind is no good, at all at all." The thud of a falling rope, and various grunts and comments from the Irishman, showed that the barge was being secured.

Still the three waited.

The primary display of secrecy, the instinct to remain unseen, had passed, but there was nothing to be gained by entering into a long and difficult explanation with the ship's hands, while it would be a simple matter to recoup the owner of the barge for any charge which might be levied on him for injury to the vessel, provided the liability rested with him and not with others.
Swearing and grumbling, Pat stumbled along the quay, carrying the lamp.
He passed within a few feet of the motionless group, and soon they heard him and his mate descending the companionway to their bunks.
"Now for a light," said the policeman, "and let's get out of this!" Taking heed not to turn the lamp toward the ship, lest their movements should be overheard and a head pop up out of the hatch, he led the way quietly to the rear of the wharf.

A rough road climbed the hill to the left, and, as this direction offered the only probable means of regaining the car, they took it.
After a long climb they reached a better road, which ultimately brought them into a main thoroughfare.