“No, sir. You see, it didn’t get here till a few hours ago, an’ we had agreed not to make up our minds before to-morrow mornin’.”
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to find out who Mr. Andrew Foster is, and whether he’s likely to give the boy a good home?”
“It would, for a fact, sir; but how might that be done? We are not allowed to leave the station for a longer time than twenty-four hours, and then only one of the crew can have a furlough.”
“There are many easier methods of learning all the public may know concerning a man than to send a messenger in search of the knowledge. Suppose you authorize me to make the necessary inquiries—it won’t cost you anything,—and in the course of perhaps a week I shall be able to tell you as much regarding Benny’s uncle as his neighbors can. I suppose, as a matter of fact, that by applying to the courts he may have himself appointed guardian for the lad and take him away; but I question whether an uncle who wasn’t spoken of in terms of affection by the boy’s father and mother would take such trouble.”
“It’s no use talkin’, we ain’t fit to settle any kind of a discussion,” Sam Hardy exclaimed emphatically. “Here we’ve been moonin’ ’round tryin’ to make up our minds whether Benny should go or not, an’ never once thinkin’ of what would have come into another man’s mind at the jump. Of course we want to know who Andrew Foster is, and what he’s likely to do for Benny? Then it’s only a question of sayin’ who will give the boy the best start in the world.”
“An’ you’ll look after this matter for us, Mr. Bradford?” Tom Downey asked, an expression of relief coming over his face.
“Certainly I will, and be glad of the opportunity of doing a favor for No. 8. Cheer up, my lad,” he added turning toward Benny who, as the conversation progressed, had been gradually drawing nearer the friendly visitor. “You’re a long ways from leaving this crew yet, and I’ll be surprised if the matter comes out differently from what you wish. With all hands of us to consider which may be the best move, there shouldn’t remain any chance for mistake. Choke back those sobs; go up and put your uniform on, and let me see how you and Fluff C. Foster look on parade.”
It was really astonishing what a change Mr. Bradford had wrought by a few commonplace words.
The expression of gloom disappeared from all the faces, and the men whose time for going on patrol had arrived set about making ready for the duty with the greatest alacrity.
Benny ran up-stairs, eager to do as this kindly friend suggested, and in an instant, as it were, something very like joy reigned where lately all had been mourning.