The seaman gravely produced a little common metal watch made in Connecticut, and worth five or six dollars. Opening it, he pointed to a name scratched inside it.
“You can’t get over that,” he said simply.
Wyllard strode up and down the room. When he sat down again with a clenched hand laid upon the table he and the seaman looked at each other steadily for a moment or two. Then the stranger made a significant gesture.
“You sent them,” he said, “what are you going to do?”
“I’m going for them.”
The sailor smiled. “I knew it would be that. You’ll have to start right away if it’s to be done this year. I’ve my eye upon a schooner.”
He lighted a cigar, and settled himself more comfortably in his chair. “Well,” he answered, “I’m going with you, but you’ll have to buy my ticket to Vancouver. It cleaned me out to get here. We’d a difficulty with a blame gunboat last season, and the boss went back on me. Sealing’s not what is used to be. Anyway, we can fix the thing up later. I won’t keep you from your friends.”
Wyllard left the sailor and though he did not find Mrs. Hastings immediately, he came upon Agatha sitting outside the house. She glanced at his face when he sat down beside her.
“Ah,” she said, “you have had the summons.”
Wyllard nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “that man was the skipper of a schooner I once sailed in. He has come to tell me where those three men are.”