“Don’t be alarmed about it,” replied the captain. “We’ll have it on board in a jiffy.”
He stepped to the table in the centre of the cabin and pressed a call-button that hung over it. An attendant instantly responded.
“Rollin,” said the captain, “tell Lieutenant Hill that this lad had a suit-case, and that, unless some one has taken it, it is on the pier from which he fell. Ask the lieutenant to see that it is recovered at once.”
The attendant raced up the companionway, and a moment later Henry heard the clang of the bell in the little motor-boat and the churning of her propeller.
“I’m mighty sorry you fell overboard,” continued the captain, “but I’m also mighty glad to welcome you aboard the Iroquois. After what you did for me, it gives me the greatest pleasure to be of some slight service to you. Now tell me something about yourself. What is your name? And where do you come from? Seeing that you carry a suit-case, I judge that you do not live in New York.”
“No, I do not,” said Henry. “My home is in Central City, Pennsylvania, and my name is Henry Harper.”
“Well, we’ll shake hands, Henry. My name is Hardwick—Captain Hardwick.” And he thrust out a muscular palm.
Henry shook the proffered hand. “I owe you my life,” he said. “I never can thank you adequately, but please believe I am grateful to you.”
“Then we are quits. It is a case of tit for tat, isn’t it?” And the captain smiled genially. “Now tell me what brings you to New York and to Staten Island?”
“Well,” explained Henry, “I came over to New York to see an old friend of mine, Willie Brown. He won a place in the Secret Service recently and he promised to try to get me a job if I would visit him.”