Mr. Henry Wise, Mr. Bruce Norton's secretary, was enjoying himself. The
mail boat did not offer the luxuries to which he was accustomed, to be
sure, but it was much more to his liking than a hunting camp in the
wilderness, particularly in frosty weather and flying snow. He could not
keep his shoes properly polished, nor creases in his trousers, nor a
spotless collar tramping upon rough trails through underbrush, and the
very thought of sleeping in a tent, and upon the ground, was horrible.
When he had suggested to Mr. Norton that Charley was too young to follow
his father on the trail, he had done so with the hope that he might be
permitted to remain at St. John's in charge of Charley, and there enjoy
the comfort of a hotel in idleness. That the hunting trip might prove
too strenuous for Charley had not occurred to Mr. Norton until the
suggestion came from Mr. Wise after their arrival in St. John's. Mr.
Wise amplified his suggestion with the argument that it was quite too
great a physical undertaking for any boy of thirteen, and might
therefore create in Charley a distaste for future camping in the wilds.
This appealed to Mr. Norton as reasonable. He wished his boy to love the
wilds as he loved them. Perhaps, he admitted, Mr. Wise was right, and if
he took Charley with him, and Charley found the trails too hard, not
only his own holiday would be spoiled, but Charley would have anything
but a pleasant time.
In expectation that he would take him on his hunting expedition, Mr.
Norton had promised Charley a unique and enjoyable experience. Now that
he had decided against it, he cast about for a substitute. Mr. Norton
was a man of his word. Charley had looked forward with keen anticipation
to the hunting trip with his father, and had asked innumerable questions
concerning it, and talked of little else since leaving New York. The
prospect of camping in a real wilderness with his father,--the
association with his father in camp, rather than the camp itself,--was
the source of Charley's anticipated pleasure.
Not realizing this, and believing that any unusual experience would
please Charley quite as well, whether or not he was to take part in it
himself, Mr. Norton received with satisfaction the suggestion that
Charley be sent upon the Labrador cruise. This, he was satisfied, was a
solution of his difficulty. A cruise on the mail boat would be an
experience to be remembered, and he had no doubt would prove much more
interesting to Charley than the hunting expedition.
This settled, he engaged passage on the mail boat for Charley and Mr.
Wise, to the chagrin and disappointment of the latter gentleman, who was
forced, however, to accept the situation with good grace. Mr. Wise had
no love of the sea.
He was to be Charley's companion on the voyage. He was to learn the
interesting features of the coast along which the mail boat cruised, and
to explain them and point them out to Charley. In general, he was to do
his utmost to make the voyage one which Charley would remember with
pleasure.
But as Mr. Wise expressed himself to the mail boat doctor, he was
"employed as secretary and not as nurse maid." He had no intention of
shivering around in the cold. He was going to make this voyage, which
had been thrust upon him, as pleasant for himself as circumstances would
permit. He pleaded sickness, and, as Charley had complained to Barney
MacFarland, lay in his bunk reading novels, or sat in the smoking room
playing checkers with the mail boat doctor, while Charley was left to
his own resources.
It was eleven o'clock in the morning when the mail boat departed from
Pinch-In Tickle. Mr. Wise was engrossed in a particularly interesting
novel, and was so deeply buried in it that he failed to hear or respond
to the noonday call to dinner. When, an hour later, hunger called his
attention to the fact that he had not eaten, he rang for the steward,
and a liberal tip brought a satisfactory luncheon to his stateroom. Thus
it came to pass that he did not observe Charley's absence from the
dinner table.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon when, the novel at last finished,
Mr. Wise left his room to challenge the doctor to a game in the smoking
room. It was not until the six o'clock evening meal that his attention
was called to the fact that Charley, who was usually prompt at meals,
was not present.
He had no doubt Charley had gone to his room and fallen asleep. If his
ward chose to sleep at meal time it was no fault of his. He ate
leisurely, and when he was through lighted a cigar, and, prompted by
compunction perhaps, looked into Charley's room. It was vacant. A sudden
anxiety seized him, and nervously and excitedly he searched the deck and
the smoking room. Charley was nowhere to be found, and in a state of
panic he reported the disappearance to Captain Barcus.
The Captain immediately instituted an investigation, and a minute search
of the ship was made, but nowhere was Charley to be found, and with
every moment Mr. Hugh Wise grew more excited.
Members of the crew were called before the Captain and Mr. Wise and
quizzed. The sailor to whom Charley had spoken and of whom he had
requested a passage ashore, recalled the incident. The mate stated that
Charley had also come to him and asked permission to go ashore in the
ship's boat at Pinch-In Tickle, but as there was no room in the boat,
permission had been denied. The men who manned the boat were then
questioned, and all were agreed that he had not been in the boat and had
not gone ashore, and they were equally positive that he had not gone
ashore at any other harbour where the vessel had stopped during the day.
Barney MacFarland recalled his conversation with Charley, when he was
going off watch. He stated that the lad had seemed most unhappy and
lonesome, and complained that Mr. Wise had done little to make the
voyage a pleasant one for him, or to help him find entertainment. He was
not on deck when Barney went on duty at eight bells.
So fertile is the imagination that two of the sailors were quite
positive they had seen Charley leaning at the rail during the afternoon,
and after the ship's departure from Pinch-In Tickle.
The steward was quite sure Charley had not eaten the midday meal. As
there was some sea running, he had supposed that Charley had a touch of
seasickness and had preferred not to eat. He had not seen Charley since
breakfast, and had not been in his stateroom since early morning.
"What can we do?" asked Mr. Wise, now in complete panic. "Will you turn
back?" he plead in a voice trembling with apprehension and fear. "Will
you look for him, Captain? You'll turn the ship back and look for him!
You must! You must at once! We _must_ find him!"
"Where would we look?" asked Captain Barcus.
"At the harbours where we stopped! At Pinch-In Tickle, or whatever you
call it! Everywhere! Everywhere!" plead Mr. Wise.
"'Twould be a waste of time and fuel, and a fool's chase," said Captain
Barcus quietly. "There was no way for the lad to go ashore but by the
ship's boat, and 'tis plain he didn't go ashore in the boat at any port
we stops at to-day. Some one would have seen him if he had, and every
man of the crew says he didn't."
"Then he's on the ship somewhere!" shouted Mr. Wise excitedly, springing
to his feet. "He's hiding! He's hiding somewhere on the ship!"
"He's not on the ship," said Captain Barcus gravely. "She've been
searched from masthead to hold, and he's not on the ship. There's no
doubting the poor lad has fallen overboard."
"Do you mean he's been--lost--at--sea?" and the terrified Wise sank
limply into a seat.
"Aye," admitted Captain Barcus, "lost at sea."
"Then turn back! Turn back and look for him!" demanded Mr. Wise, again
on his feet in a frenzy of excitement. "Why don't you turn back and look
for him?"
"Keep your senses, man," admonished Captain Barcus. "As I said before,
'twould be a fool's job to look for him in the sea. No man knows where
or when he went overboard. 'Tis likely 'twere hours ago."
Mr. Wise slouched into a seat, and with his elbows upon his knees held
his head in his hands for a full minute before he spoke.
"What can I tell his father? What can I tell him? He'll discharge me!
He'll think I didn't look after the boy!" and Mr. Wise's dejection was
complete. "What _can_ I tell him!"
"Tell him the truth. He'll discharge you likely. I would," said the
Captain in blunt disgust.
"You can fix it up! You can tell him it happened through no fault of
mine! Tell him something that will clear me of any charge of neglecting
the boy!" Mr. Wise raised his head and looked wistfully and pleadingly
at the Captain.
"You seem to be thinking more of your job than of the poor lad that's
lost," and Captain Barcus, who had risen to his feet, looked down in
contempt upon the cringing man. "My log will say he was last seen
leaning over the starb'rd rail. That he was not at dinner nor at tea,
and that you didn't miss him till after tea and long after dark, though
'tis likely he was lost overboard before dinner. And I'll put in the
testimony of the last to talk with him, the mate, and the seaman, and
what he said to Barney MacFarland. I'm going now to write my log while
'tis all fresh in my mind."
And leaving Mr. Wise, Captain Barcus went to his room to write in his
log a true report of what apparently had happened, and the account that
was finally to be given Mr. Bruce Norton upon the arrival of the steamer
in St. John's.
V