“He’s unconscious, and probably will be for hours,” stated Dr. Burke, as Captain Tom appeared in the doorway. “If he comes to, I’ve left some medicine with your steward, to be given the patient. Of course you’ll get him ashore and under medical care as promptly as possible, Captain.”
“Surgeons are on the way from Beaufort to meet us,” the young skipper nodded.
“Then I’ll return to my ship,” declared Dr. Burke, rising. “But I’m glad to know that Mr. Clodis is going to be met by a friend.”
As the doctor hurried over the side, Hilton turned to walk aft.
“Stay forward, if you please, sir,” interposed Captain Tom. “No one is to go into the cabin 33 until the patient has been removed under a doctor’s orders.”
There was a frown on Hilton’s face, which, however, almost instantly vanished. Joe brought a deck arm chair and placed it for Mr. Hilton on the bridge deck.
“Good luck for you and your patient, sir,” called down Captain Hampton over the rail, as he prepared to get under headway.
“Thank you, sir,” Tom acknowledged. “We’ll take the best care of Mr. Clodis that we know how.”
With Hank on duty in the cabin, Tom Halstead had to cast off and make his own start as best he could. He managed the double task neatly, however, and, as he fell away the “Constant’s” engine-room bell could be heard for half-speed-ahead.
The little auto-whistle of the “Restless” sounded shrilly, to be answered with a long, deep-throated blast from the liner’s steam whistle. With this brief interchange of sea courtesies the two craft fell apart, going on their respective ways.