The crowd from the incoming boat began to unload into the ferry-house, and Rex placed himself anxiously by the entrance. Three or four thin men scurried in advance, then a bunch of stout and middle-aged persons straggled along puffing. Then came a set of young people in theater array, chattering and laughing as they hurried, and another set, and another--the main body of the little army was upon him. Rex scanned them for a girl alone or a girl with her mother. Ah! here she was--this must be Strong's "blue-eyed girlie." She was alone and pretty, a little under-bred and blond. Rex lifted his hat. "I beg your pardon," he said, in his most winning way; "are you waiting for Mr. Strong?" The girl threw up her head and looked frightened, and then angry. "No, I am not," she said, and then, with a haughty look, "I call you pretty saucy," and Rex was left mortified and silent, while a passing man murmured, "Served you right," and a woman laughed scornfully. He stalked across to the tranquil form on the truck. "Billy," he said, and shook a massive shoulder. "Wake up. Tell me that girl's name." Strong opened his eyes like a baby waked from dewy sleep. "Wha's that, Recky--dear old Recky--bes' fren'----" "Cut that out," said Rex, sharply. "Tell me the name of the girl you're waiting here to meet," and he laughed a short bitter laugh. The girl whom "Billy" was waiting to meet! Rex was getting tired and hungry. Strong smiled a gentle, obstinate, tipsy smile and shook his head. "No, Recky, dear ol' fren'--bes' fren'--well, nev' min'. Can't tell girl's name; tha's her secret." "Don't be an ass, Billy--quick, now, tell me the name." "Naughty, naughty!" quoted Billy again, and waggled his forefinger. "Danger hell fire! Couldn' tell girl's name, Recky--be dishon'able. Couldn', no, couldn'. Anythin' else--ask m' anythin' else in all these wide worlds"--and he struck his breast with fervor. "Tell you _anythin'_, Recky, but couldn' betray trustin' girl's secret." "Billy, can't you give me an idea what the girl's like?" pleaded Rex desperately. Billy smiled up at him drowsily. "Perfectly good girl," he elucidated. "Good eyes, good wind, kind to mother--perfectly good girl in ev--every r-respect," he concluded, emphasizing his sentences by articulating them. He dropped his chin into his chest with a recumbent bow, and his arm described an impressive semicircle. "Present to her 'surances my most disting'shed consider-ration--soon's you find her," and he went flop on his side and was asleep. Rex had to give it up. He heard the gates rattling open for the next boat-load, and took his stand again, bracing himself for another rebuff. The usual vanguard, the usual quicksilver bunch of humanity, massing, separating, flowing this way and that, and in the midst of them a fair-haired, timid-looking young girl, walking quietly with down-cast eyes, as if unused to being in big New York alone at eight o'clock at night. Rex stood in front of her with bared head.