"I think we'll enjoy this adventure," I said; "don't you?"

"I try to make the best of things," she said, gazing off into the
horizon haze. "Look," she added; "is that a man?"

A spot far away on the beach caught my eye. At first I thought it was
a pelican--and small wonder, too, for the dumpy, waddling,
goose-necked individual who loomed up resembled a heavy bottomed bird
more than a human being.

"Do you suppose that could be Mr. Slunk?" asked the stenographer, as
our vehicle drew nearer.

He looked as though his name ought to be Slunk; he was digging coquina
clams, and he dug with a pecking motion like a water-turkey mastering
a mullet too big for it.

His name was Slunk; he admitted it when I accused him. Our negro
driver drew rein, and I descended to the sand and gazed on Mr. Slunk.

He was, as I have said, not impressive, even with the tremendous
background of sky and ocean.

"I've come something over a thousand miles to see you," I said,
reluctant to admit that I had come as far to see such a specimen of
human architecture.

A weather-beaten grin stretched the skin that covered his face, and he
shoved a hairy paw into the pockets of his overalls, digging deeply