The Cruise of the Pelican

A monstrous voice was that, a roaring thunderous voice that filled the dingy old back room with rolling waves of sound. Startled, Tom Dennis reached to the nearest electric bulb, switched it on, and directed the light toward the door of the outer office.

There, standing in the doorway, he saw a surprising figure. The stranger was two inches taller than Dennis, who himself stood six feet one. Not particularly well dressed was the intruder—rough blue serge, manifestly hand-me-downs, and a white soft shirt with loosely-knotted cravat. But the face—the face was the thing!