“And now that this initial cocktail—this nightcap for an insomniacal elephant!—was circulating through her like 42 stream-lined trains, The Rebel said she desired to make a toast. The Captain ordered the cups filled up again. And raising her cup, she gave her toast.
“‘Here’s to all of us,’ she said gaily. ‘Adventurers—gypsies—vagabonds over land and sea. Folks that despise the knowledge of where their next meal—or at least their next month’s meals—are coming from; and who live—and can live—wherever they hang their hat. For if we weren’t all of us—just that—we wouldn’t all of us, from Captain Smith here down to our new passenger, be aboard an old freighter, plowing across from China to ’Frisco.’ To which,” I added, “she tacked on a further final significant few words to her toast, and we a
