The Arctic skipper summoned his owners at the Hull end, and requested them to wire him, through the medium of a confidential clerk.
When all was ready, he told them briefly the story of his misadventures, and asked for advice.
The reply was somewhat as follows, when boiled down.
“Curses on your ill luck! But why did you not obey our secret instructions?”
“Hadn’t the heart nor the conscience.” Thus the reply. “Requires more nerve than I have to do a thing of that kind. Would rather not stand in a felon’s dock.”
“You’re a fool.” This from Hull. “You have all but ruined your owners. We must sell the Walrus now, and at once.”
Well, this was just the kind of message Brace half expected. And, when he read it, he burst into a joyous, hearty “Ha, ha, ha!” in which Ingomar readily joined.
Had this been the telephone, they might easily have heard that laugh at Hull. But a laugh that is merely wired is a very cold kind of an article.
“There is a gentleman,” wired Brace, “whom I know, that wants a strongly built craft to cruise around Tierra del Fuego. He is in Lerwick now, and might be tempted to buy the Walrus, at a price.”
“Tempt him, then, and be hanged to you,” was clicked through.