tail of it anyhow, and indeed I'd pretty near forgot all about it
when there came news of the explosion at Bemerhaven, and people began
to talk about coal torpedoes. Then I knew as in all probability I'd
carried the man who managed the business, and I gave word to the
police, but they never could make anything of it. You know what a coal
torpedo is, don't you? Well, you see, a cove insures his ship for
more than its value, and then off he goes and makes a box like a bit
o'coal, and fills it chock full with dynamite, or some other cowardly
stuff of the sort. He drops this box among the other coals on the quay
when the vessel is filling her bunkers, and then in course of time
box is shoveled on to the furnaces, when of course the whole ship is
blown sky high. They say there's many a good ship gone to the bottom
like that."

"You've certainly had some queer experiences," I said.

"Why bless you!" remarked the driver, "I've hardly got fairly
started yet, and here we are at the 'Alexandry.' I could tell you
many another story as strange as these--and true, mind ye, true as
Gospel. If ever your missus looks in need of a breath of fresh air
you send round for me--Copper Street, number ninety-four--and
I'll give her a turn into the country, and if you'll come up beside
me on the box, I'll tell you a good deal that may surprise you. But
there's your little lad a hollering to you like mad, and the wife
wants to get out, and the other one's a tapping at the window with a
parasol. Take care how you get down, sir! That's right! Don't
forget number ninety-four! Good-day missus! Good-day, sir!" And
the growler rumbled heavily away until I lost sight both of it and of
its communicative driver among the crowd of holiday-makers who
thronged the road which led to the Palace.