A man in ship's uniform entered ahead of the steward.
“The steward here, sir,” said the man, “was speaking about your baggage.”
“Speaking about it!” murmured Crang helplessly. “I told him to get it.”
“Yes, sir,” said the man; “but I am sorry to say that no such baggage as you describe has come aboard the ship. There has been no baggage at all for Mr. Bruce, sir.”
“Not aboard!” gasped Crang. “Then—then where is it?”
“I can't say, sir, of course,” said the other sympathetically. “I am only stating a fact to you.”
“But—but I sent it down to the dock early this morning.” Crang's voice was rising in well-affected excitement. “It must be here! I tell you, it must be here!”
The man shook his head.
“It's my job, sir. I'm sorry, Mr. Bruce, but I know positively your baggage is not aboard this ship.”
“Then what's to be done?” Crang's voice rose louder. “You've left it on the dock, that's what—fools, thundering idiots!”