A FELLOW PASSENGER 5 



George had marked him as we crossed the 

 Atlantic. At Quebec he was well to the fore, 

 darting, their self-constituted protector, hurriedly 

 and fussily in search of various ladies, watched 

 with languid interest by the groups of expert 

 expectorators with whom he got entangled. He 

 was of that type who knows everything about any- 

 thing, and laid down the law in an authoritative 

 manner on the handling of a ship, an engine, or an 

 aeroplane ; the cost of a first-class fare and the 

 degree of comfort to be expected on any line of 

 steamers, railways, or other mode of conveyance 

 in any known sea or country in any part of the 

 globe ; the exact method of booking luggage in 

 advance and its advantages and arrived at Van- 

 couver, to the not unmixed sorrow of his fellow 

 passengers, minus all his belongings save a hand 

 bag and a bundle of rugs. The latter we found 

 unlabelled in our cabin. George returned it to the 

 anxious and perspiring owner with a few words as 

 to the desirability of advertising his name. The 

 ship sailed three quarters of an hour after the 

 arrival of the train, during which Horace wildly 

 ransacked the town in company with several 

 C.P.R. officials on whom he had laid vengeful 

 hands. He arrived on board as the gangway was 

 being withdrawn, tightly clutching a bundle from 

 which shirts, collars, and underclothes protruded in 

 admired disorder. 



Apropos of his experience, the captain I can 

 see him now chuckling over it told us that on 

 one occasion a lady was placed, through the neglig- 

 ence of the railway officials, in a similar predica- 

 ment. Her luggage could not arrive before the 



