“Not at all, if it’s done in the proper way,” Cal replied, “and I’ll do it in that way.”
And he did. When Dunbar returned, he carried the tea, closely sealed up in tin foil.
“Is that thin tin foil sufficient to keep tea dry?” Cal asked.
“If you keep the packet in a dry place it is,” Dunbar answered. “The tin-foil prevents the delicate aroma of the tea from escaping, and at the same time forbids the leaves to absorb moisture from the air. When I’m moving about in a boat I carefully wrap any tea I may have in my waterproof sheets, but that is apt to give it an undesirable flavor, so my first care upon landing is to provide a dry storage place for my tea, my ammunition, my papers and whatever else I may have that needs protection. By the way, I’ve never shown you my locker up there. I’ll do so to-morrow morning. I’ll not forget, as I must go there for writing and drawing materials. I have some things in my mind that I simply must put down on paper at once.”
At that moment he thrust his hand into his pocket and felt there for some seconds. Then he said:
“That’s very unfortunate. I’ve managed to lose my knife.”
“I think I must have found it, then,” said Tom, holding it out; “isn’t that it?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m particularly glad to get it again, as it is the only one I have at Quasi. I usually buy half a dozen at a time, and so the loss of one doesn’t annoy me. But just now I have only this one.”
He did not ask where or when Tom had found the knife, nor did he seem in the least surprised that it was found. The circumstance did not seem to remind him of his letter or of anything else.