"Oh, yes; they are old 'uns. But they do look like sunburnt boys. But I say, I expected something very different from this. What stuff people do write in books! I mean to say it's too bad." "Yes; just over a month since we started from Southampton, and here we are dropped in this miserable place along with all our luggage and boxes, and been caged up in that hotel. Do you know what I felt when I first looked ashore?" "No, but I know what I did--as if I should have liked to tell uncle that we had better stop aboard the steamer, for I was sure we had made a mistake and come to the wrong place." "No, no, I say, play fair; that's what I felt," said Mark. "You felt? You couldn't, because that's what I felt." "Well, I could, for I did feel it exactly. I say, though; where are Bob and Pretty Dance?" "Pretty Dance," said Dean dreamily. "Yes, we have been in a pretty dance, and no mistake. I don't know where they are. Wandering about somewhere having a look at what shipping there is, for there isn't much to see in the town." "I say, I hope those two fellows are keeping an eye on the cases. It would be a nice job if someone opened our luggage and got at the guns." "Oh, the landlord said that would be all right. Phew! It is hot! Here, let's go and talk to the doctor." "No, don't disturb him; he's lying down and having a nap. Let's go and talk to uncle." "He's gone to lie down and have a nap too." "Bother! I thought as soon as we got ashore it was all going to be interesting and beautiful, and that we should be having glorious adventures. I don't know how we are going to get through it." "Get through what?" "Those three days before we can start up the country." "Oh, there they are," said Dean sharply. "Who?" "Our two keepers." "Let's go and talk to them, then. Poor old Bacon. If it's going to be like this Bob will be frizzled." "Well, don't walk so fast. I say, it must be hot." "Why?" "Because I feel as if I had got too many clothes on." "Ah, it will be hotter than this; but it's the only thing that makes me think we are in a foreign country. Here, who's this? Why, it's that sailor again." "Yes," said Dean. "What does he want? He was following us about all day yesterday when we were trying to look at the town." "What does he want? Coppers, of course. He's a beggar." "Well, he doesn't look like one. No, that isn't it. He's got a boat somewhere, and wants to take us up the river for a row. Shall we go?" "No; it's too hot. Think we could buy an umbrella somewhere?" "What for? It looks as if it had not rained here for a twelvemonth." "Keep the sun off." "Oh, I see. Come along, then, till we get to those stores, and we can buy one there, I daresay; but I shan't walk with you if you put it up. Bother you and your umbrella! Are you afraid you'll melt?" "I am melting."