Читать книгу The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard онлайн

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The realization shocked him. He stopped in his tracks and stared. His heart almost stood still. His last hope was gone. Then wildly he tore up the roadway to the higher level, still hoping that he might find some trace of the people he sought. His hope was vain. No name in any doorway even remotely suggested the name he was looking for, and all whom he questioned gave him the same reply,—they did not know any one of that name.

Almost stunned, Henry turned about and slowly retraced his footsteps. He was hardly conscious of where he was going, but he kept walking, and his footsteps naturally went downhill. Before he realized where he was, Henry found himself on the water-front. A great, wide, cobbled thoroughfare ran along the water’s edge, and here, projecting far out into the bay, stood pier after pier in a magnificent row, all built as a result of the war. But the pulsing life of the war days was gone. Many of the piers seemed empty or deserted. Few vessels lay in the docks. Yet the splendid water-front, once open and unobstructed, was now completely shut in by these hulking structures. To see the water here, one must either go back up the hill, where one could see over the pier-sheds, or else go to the seaward end of a pier. And no matter how keen his disappointment was, Henry did want to see the water-front here. After a little he would go back to Manhattan and try to find some quarters where he could exist until one of his friends returned, or until he could get a job. But before he went back he meant to have a good look at this lower end of the harbor, which he loved so well.