Dick pulled forward a chair and sat down.
“If you have just a moment or two more to spare, I’ll tell you. For a long time now it had been a sore point with me. A number of weeks ago, at the instance of Mr. Frazer, I went up there to the island of the dinosaur, accompanied by my two friends, Sandy MacClaren and John Toma—the two young men you saw yesterday with Corporal Rand. Mr. Frazer had promised us quite a large sum of money if we would bring the skeleton back to Half Way House. Not until we arrived at the island and saw how large the dinosaur was, did we learn that the expedition was planned by the factor merely to get us out of the way. It was a fool’s errand. It made us all feel silly. Quite a few people, who have heard about it, had a good laugh at our expense. I can take a joke as well as the next one, but this joke was too raw to suit me, or my chums either. We had paid out quite a large sum of money for tools and grubstake and were forced to endure untold, almost unbelievable hardships.”
Captain Morrison’s eyes shadowed.
“Atrocious!” he pronounced. “I don’t blame you in the least for feeling as you do.”
Soon afterward, Dick bade good-night to Factor Scott and the genial river pilot and retired to his room in the loft to write his letter to the Canadian Geographical Society. On the following morning, he was up bright and early and, after a hurried breakfast, went down to the landing wharf, his epistle in hand.
Captain Morrison greeted him cheerily.
“Good morning, young man, you’re abroad early. Were you afraid I’d pull anchor before you had time to mail that precious letter? Bet you didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Dick flushed under the steady gaze.
“In strict confidence, I didn’t sleep very much, but I guess it was more than a wink. I feel rested, anyway—and happy, too.”
The captain yanked his blue cap farther down over his eyes and bellowed out an order. A sailor, standing idly near the gangplank, jumped as if he had been shot.