"I can talk with father!" she exclaimed as though the discovery were fresh. "Come, down, gentlemen! He knows exactly what I'm saying, Tom, and winks once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'! I asked if he'd give us the exact location of the wreck, and he said 'yes'; so I came to call you at once."
"Excellent, Mrs. Dennis! I congratulate you," exclaimed the skipper. "Mr. Leman cannot leave the deck. I'll call Mr. Mendez as we go down. Well, well, Mrs. Dennis! Your husband was just telling us of the method of communication. Quite ingenious, quite! By the way, have you seen Mrs. Pontifex?"
Mr. Leman, who entirely disregarded the conventional title of the lady, sang out in quick response:
"The Missus is up for'ard in the galley. Ahoy, Corny! Pass up the word for the Missus!"
So the word was "passed up", and the large figure of Mrs. Pontifex appeared near the try-works as Florence descended the companion ladder. With the Missus at the end of the procession, the others passed on into the stern cabin, the skipper knocking at the door of Manuel Mendez en route and commanding his immediate presence.
"Best do this all shipshape," suggested the skipper, when they stood before and around the immobile figure of Miles Hathaway. "I'll get out a chart, Mrs. Dennis——"
Pontifex searched his chart locker and did not find the desired chart until Manuel Mendez appeared, smiling his eternal and monstrous grin. Then Pontifex produced a chart of the Aleutian Islands.
"Now, ma'am," he addressed Florence, "while I read off the figures to your poor old father, you stand by to watch for the answers. All ready? Good. Let's take up the latitude first—easier to determine the position that way. Now, is the position north of fifty-four?"
"No," returned Florence almost at once.
"Hm! That cuts out everything north of Dutch Harbour, eh? North of fifty-two?"