Tom was well supplied with money, and had drafts and letters of credit for a larger amount. His father had left funds in his name in their local bank on leaving for Australia, and also instructions with his business partner to supply Tom with as much cash as was necessary in case of emergency.
The news of the possible loss of the Kangaroo was held by Mr. Fairfield’s partner to be an emergency, and Tom had drawn on the reserve account.
Following the advice of Mr. Fitch, Tom sought out a certain San Francisco steamship agency and told of his needs.
“Hum,” mused the manager when Tom had given the longitude and latitude where the wreckage had been sighted. “That’s in the vicinity of the Eastern Group of the Friendly Islands, as near as I can make out,” and he consulted a chart. “We don’t have many vessels hitting just at that particular spot in the ocean. Still—hum—let me see.”
He looked over a sailing list, made some notes, looked again at the chart and announced:
“Well, I guess the Silver Star would about hit what you want. She’s not a very large steamer, but she’s comparatively new, and a good safe boat. Captain’s nice man, too. She doesn’t carry many passengers, but her berths are not all filled, and I guess they can make room for you. If you want to stand the expense I can arrange to have the captain cruise about in the vicinity of those islands for a day or so.”
“I’ll stand the expense!” cried Tom eagerly. “We may sight something!”
“All right. Then I’ll draw up the papers. The Silver Star sails in six days from now.”
Those six days Tom spent in San Francisco, seeing the sights of the place, and fretting and worrying that time did not pass faster.