Silently, thoroughly, they searched every inch of David’s room. The plans were not there. They could not sleep, so they sat in the salon and smoked. There Mr. Hammond found them when, as usual, he came out at dawn. Briefly they told him what had happened.
“By George,” he said, “that’s a rotten shame! Who on earth would do it? Whom do you suspect?”
“Well, sir,” said Red grimly, “my brother always says, ‘Don’t ever lose time suspectin’ anybody. Look for a motive’.”
“There’s a good deal in that, but I confess I don’t see any motives just now. Wonder if there is any coffee left over. This has upset me.”
“I’ll make some, sir, if you can keep the cook from stabbin’ me later,” said Red, and he went into the spotless galley.
While Red made coffee, David explained something of the nature of the device minutely described in the stolen plans, what he had hoped it would mean to dirigible navigation, and his high hopes of winning the Goodlow School prize with it. When Red returned with the steaming percolator Mr. Hammond tested the brew with evident satisfaction.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now I can think. We have been talking this invention over, Red. Why, it is a great thing! Just what we have been groping for. If it is a success, it is immensely valuable. The papers must be found.”
“They must,” said Red, “for it will work. I know it!”
“I wouldn’t have had such a thing happen for anything,” mused Mr. Hammond. “With the ship full of newspaper correspondents lapping everything up for copy! But we can’t side-step. We will have a meeting right after breakfast.”
To avoid crowding the salon, Mr. Hammond divided the meeting. The passengers, officers, and three engineers met first. Mr. Hammond laid the case before them, and each man was searched. Afterward the crew and the rest of the engineers gathered. There was a general demand, led by Wally, for a search of everybody’s personal belongings. Committees were formed, every garment was examined, every cushion probed, hangings taken down, books and magazines gone over leaf by leaf.