Harker and Alfred were ready to go—indeed eager to, for it hadn’t been an easy quarter of an hour for them. They rose rather suddenly when Pentecost came in, and the three moved toward the door murmuring the ordinary phrases of leave-taking. Haworth had taken the bulky bunches of money out of his pockets and put them together on the table, and as Pentecost and the two Harkers saw him last he was standing there with one hand resting on them. He made no move to go with them to the door. * * * * * Besides the Messrs. Harker & Pentecost and Alfred, there were on board the steamer _North Land_ when she left the India wharf that same afternoon, a number of persons who were more or less concerned in the business of the firm, yet, as you need hardly be told, giving no indication that such was the case. Not only were cabins 202 and 204 on the hurricane deck occupied by Pentecost’s men as before, but 200, 201, 203, and 205 were also held, though only two of these were occupied. Thus, if you should happen to examine a chart of the boat, you would see that the firm commanded both port and starboard approaches to the fantail. And also as on the return voyage eight days before, the partners appeared to be pretty well fagged out, although it didn’t prevent their being about for a while and chatting pleasantly with their steamer acquaintances, letting it be known (but not until inquiry was made) that they’d succeeded in purchasing the rights to the extraordinary device of which they’d spoken, and what was more, had got a contract with the young inventor himself giving them his services for five years. Again they had an early dinner together in the restaurant and sat on the boat deck for a while, smoking cigars. Along toward half-past seven or a quarter to eight they sauntered forward, pausing at the large windows of the pilot house and greeting the captain. He asked them to come in and have a look at the canal—which the steamer was even then slowing down to enter. They accepted the invitation, and sat watching the shores on each side until it grew so dark—for the night was overcast—that only faint and blurred outlines could be distinguished. Some ten or twelve minutes before they reached the western end of the canal, Pentecost rose lazily, made an effort to conceal a yawn, and bade the captain good night. He was rather done up with the day in Boston, he said, and really couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. Having thus excused himself, he went below, leaving Harker there to see the ship come out into the Bay, which he claimed to be desirous of doing.