“Sure—if Chanler would give the order. They know he can pay for their time, even if they are carrying mail.”
“Then you may have a message to send them soon,” I said, and went out to seek Chanler and Miss Baldwin.
I did not find Chanler. Miss Baldwin was alone in a deck-chair under the awning on the forward deck. She was sitting with her chin in her hand, and to my surprise a look of relief came upon her face as she glanced up and saw me. Before I could speak she said.
“Mr. Pitt, what has happened to George Chanler?”
“Happened to Chanler?” I stammered. I tried to make light of it, but the look on her face stopped the foolish words on my lips.
“You know he is changed,” she continued. “What has done it?”
“How do you mean he has changed,” I asked.
“Don’t, please don’t try to deceive me?” She broke out. “I am not blind. I can see he has changed, and I can see that your attitude toward him is not what it would have been if he—if he were himself. You’re an old friend of his?”
“I have known him for several years.”
“So he said. Then you know he has changed. Why, he was like a good-natured boy last Winter; you couldn’t help liking him. And now he is so different. What has happened to him?”