“Are you the commander of this vessel, sir?”
“I am,” replied Captain Matthews. Then, thinking to display at once the extent of his information, he added: “And you, I presume, are the person who has chartered yonder schooner?”
“I am, sir,” answered the stranger; “and my name is—”
“Coombs, is it not?”
“Oh no! Mr. Coombs is still in the boat, and we have come off to beg your assistance. As I was about to say, my—”
“Excuse me,” interrupted the captain, “but I fear you are applying to the wrong person for assistance in the business in which you are engaged.”
“Do you know what it is, then?” asked the stranger, with an air of surprise.
“I have reason to believe that you are after seal-skins,” was the reply, given with an air that seemed to say: “Deny it if you can.”
“I am willing to acknowledge that part of our business here was to secure certain seal-skins that had been left on yonder island. That, however, devolved entirely upon Mr. Coombs, and was something with which I had nothing to do. My errand here, and the one in which I hoped for your assistance, is the searching for a lost boy—my own son, in fact. He was known to be on Oonimak Island two weeks ago; but now, though we have scoured the island from end to end, we can discover no traces of him.”