On their return to the dock they were followed by a very
persistent Armenian who apparently was unshaken in his
determination to sell certain articles he was peddling.
"I tell you," said Fred sharply, turning upon the
dark-complexioned man, "we don't want any of your rugs or table
cloths."
"Yees, kind sir, but just see these mooch fine han'ki'chiefs."
"But we don't want any," said Fred.
"But, my gud sir, they are ver' cheep."
By this time the boys had arrived at the landing and still the
persistent peddler gave them no rest. He was calling his wares
and insisting upon an inspection of them, ignoring the protests
of the boys.
Finally in despair Fred reached beneath the seat and drew forth
one of Sam's artificial legs. He waved it before the startled
Armenian who gazed at it a moment in manifest fear and then
uttering a loud scream ran back to his basket.
A laugh arose from the assembly on the dock who had been watching
the experiences of the boys. The Armenian, however, did not delay
and when the Black Growler departed, the boys were able to see
the disappearing figure of their tormentor walking rapidly up the
hill.
There he turned and looked back at the dock, but although the
boat had departed, apparently his fears were only slightly
relieved, for he soon disappeared.
"That's the best thing we've found in a long while," laughed
George.
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