"Report from Fayal. A Portugee fisherman's picked up and brought in a boat with 'Curlew' painted on her stern, and he saw spars and wreckage driftin' near the empty boat. There's been a hurricane out there. It—it looks bad, Cap'n Silt."
Before the latter could speak again Louise was at his side and had seized his tattooed arm.
"Uncle Amazon!" she gasped. "Not the Curlew? Didn't I tell you before? That is the schooner daddy-prof's party sailed upon. Can there be two Curlews?"
"My soul and body!" exclaimed Cap'n Joab.
It was Cap'n Amazon who kept his head.
"Not likely to be two craft of the same name and register—no, my dear," he said, patting her hand. "But don't take this so much to heart. It's only rumor. A dozen things might have happened to set that boat adrift. Ain't that so, Cap'n Joab?"
Cap'n Joab swallowed hard and nodded; but his wind-bitten face displayed much distress. "I had no idee the gal's father was aboard that schooner with Cap'n Abe."
"Why, sure! I forgot it for a minute," Cap'n Amazon said cheerfully. "There, there, my dear. Don't take on so. Abe's with your father, if so be anything has happened the Curlew; and Abe'll take keer o' him. Sure he will! Ain't he a Silt? And lemme tell you a Silt never backed down when trouble riz up to face him. No, sir!"
"But if they have been wrecked?" groaned Louise. "Both father and
Uncle Abram. What shall we do about it, Uncle Amazon?"
In this moment of trouble she clung to the master mariner as her single recourse. And impostor or no, he who called himself Amazon Silt did not fail her.