Knowing nothing of all this, but talking matters over with Mr. Duncan, was Fred Withrow, the owner of the Calumet, in Mr. Duncan’s office. “Here’s a telegram came four days ago from Glover. Says that the Calumet went ashore the previous night while she was trying to make Canso Harbor. And now here’s the second telegram, came three days ago, saying that as soon as the weather moderated he took a tug and went down to see how she was, but couldn’t find her. And now, here’s this long letter, came this morning, saying that he don’t know what to make of it—that when he went down to look for her he could not find a trace of her. He says he thought she
The Lucy was acting like a vessel trying to coax the other.
may have slipped off the ledge—whatever ledge it is he does not seem to know, it was such a black night and blowing so hard when he came in. But that she must have slid off and sunk, rolled over on her side and sunk, he is certain; because otherwise the spars at least would show. Now he’s thinking of sounding the harbor, but wants to know my opinion of it first.”
“Yes?” said Mr. Duncan. He and Withrow were not the best of friends.
“Yes. But I suppose you’re wondering what it’s all got to do with you. Well, Glover mentions in his letter that Wesley Marrs came into the harbor just after the Calumet went ashore. It was Wesley took the crew off. But next morning, when he went down to look for the Calumet, Wesley was gone. I didn’t know but what you had heard from Wesley.”
“I haven’t heard from Wesley since he left for Newfoundland, six weeks ago. I don’t generally hear from him till he gets home. Wesley isn’t much of a letter-writer.”
It was just then that they heard a commotion, and, looking out of the window, saw the Lucy Foster and the Calumet coming to anchor in the stream.
“What!” exclaimed Withrow, and waited, after he had looked again, no longer than to glance doubtfully at Mr. Duncan before he flew out of the door.