“Where is Ryder?” asked the young officer.
“He decided to stay behind and spend the night with the hunters,” was the reply.
“Then he’ll be apt to get left, for the cutter is to sail as soon as you and I can get aboard.”
Serge was thunderstruck. For a moment he knew not what to do or say. Then a sudden plan flashed into his mind.
“Mr. Ramey,” he said, “I am going overland to fetch my friend: it is the quickest way. Will you kindly beg Captain Matthews to wait for us just as long as he can? I know we can be back before midnight.”
“Very well, Mr. Belcofsky; do as you please,” replied the officer. Then without another word Serge set off on a run for the distant point where he expected to find Phil.
Mr. Ramey returned to the ship and reported that he believed the young gentlemen had gone to Walrus Islet egg-hunting, and it was doubtful if they returned before the afternoon of the following day.
“The young scamps!” exclaimed Captain Matthews. “So they have given me the slip, after all! Well, I can’t wait for them now, but will come back and pick them up after we run down this new poacher.”
On hearing this Mr. Ramey was greatly troubled, and became filled with a fear that haunted him for some days.
So the Phoca sailed away, and her recent passengers were left behind.