Flood Tide (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1918. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER THE SECOND Heaven save me from another such job as we found at Brown Brothers; one such experience is enough for a lifetime. Ever since then I have had a horror of remaking and remodeling. I date my first gray hair from that period. Hatherly went down with us. I remember still the sinking of my heart as we surveyed the place from across the street; despite Hatherly's warning I had expected something better than a dingy front with unwashed windows. I expected that a New York house, even though afflicted with dry rot, would surpass a provincial Boston establishment. We went on a tour of inspection, to an accompaniment of stares and whispered exchanges, Hatherly very voluble and cheerful in his fragmentary way, Jenkins and I plodding dismally behind him. We ended at the office. "Well, what do you think of it?" jerked Hatherly, cocking one leg over the arm of his chair. Jenkins looked at me. I looked at Jenkins. Words failed us. "Out of date and all that," Hatherly went on. "But good metal; needs polishing, that's all. Eh?" Jenkins answered indirectly. "Any insurance on the place?" Hatherly nodded. "Fully covered?" "Certainly. Think I'm a fool?" "I'm undecided. In your place I'd buy a barrel of kerosene and a box of matches. Leave the rest to the rats--enough of them, by the looks of things." Hatherly snorted. "You'll find that the easiest way out," argued Jenkins. "Oh, not so bad as that," encouraged Hatherly. "Good stuff here, but dusty--damned dusty." He waved his arm inspiringly and sneezed. "Just dig into it--clean it up. You'll be surprised." That was all the satisfaction we got from him. He hemmed and harrumphed and "bwey"-ed about for a while and then rushed off to catch a train back to Boston. We envied him. Jenkins and I stared at each other...