But Mr. Brown reminded him of it by observing, “I’m hoping we are not too late.”
This idea had not entered Jack’s head before. Too late!
What if they were too late, after all! That last message had broken off with suspicious abruptness, although Mr. Jukes must have been then aboard, because his offer of a million dollars to the unknown ship—Jack had not sent the name of the Ajax—was characteristic of him.
The bright afternoon seemed to cloud over as he thought of this. Stern and capricious as the magnate was, still, Jack, in his inner soul, admired his forcefulness and driving power; and as for Tom Jukes, he had formed a genuine liking for the frail lad.
He looked out over the sparkling sea. It was hard to believe that it might have witnessed a marine tragedy within the last few hours.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MATE’S YARN.
Mr. Brown was soliloquizing.
“Nothing so bad as fire at sea,” said he. “Take any typical case. The old man thinks he can fight it down and so do most of his crew. And so they let it run on till it’s too late, and then it’s all off.