“It’s—it’s a fearful risk, a terrible one, even to think of sending such priceless papers by registered mail.”
“At least, sir,” urged Tom, “you would be sure the documents were properly started on their way.”
“Yet with no surety that they wouldn’t fall into wrong hands at the other end,” shuddered Seaton.
“Then, since your life would undoubtedly be the forfeit if you attempted to take the papers yourself, will you trust me, or Joe, to board the first steamer we pick up by wireless?” 175
“Wh—what do you advise, Halstead?” queried Seaton, with the air and tone of a man tortured by uncertainty and hesitation.
“I advise, sir, your making a very definite move of one kind or another, without the loss of another hour,” rejoined young Halstead, almost sharply. “Simply drifting in a fog won’t settle anything.”
“Oh, I know that only too well,” replied Powell Seaton, desperately.
“Let us,” proposed Skipper Tom, “take a northerly course. We’ll try to pick up a Rio-bound steamship. Failing in that, let us put in for land, you to send the papers off by registered mail—or I’ll take train for New York and go by the first boat.”
“I—I’ll do it,” agreed Powell Seaton, falteringly. “Halstead, my boy, I’ve pondered and worried over this until my brain almost refuses to act. I’m glad to have your clearer brain to steady me—to guide me.”
“Are your papers sealed?” asked Captain Tom, after a little further thought.