They had made the mistake of leaving the terminal by a wrong exit and had emerged on to a cross-town street.

After that it was easy.

A car lumbered up, the policeman stopped it for them, they climbed aboard, were hurled half the length of the aisle and fell into seats.

A few minutes later they transferred to a cross-town line without misadventure.
"They certainly make you step lively in this town," panted Tom, clutching a strap and narrowly avoiding a seat in the lap of a very stout lady.

"Glad I don't have to live here!" Steve, however, whose eyes were darting hither and thither in a desperate effort to lose none of the sights, was more favourably disposed toward the city.