The room into which he led the girls was extremely severe and quite bare of furniture. There was a bunk bed, a stove, an ice box and two wooden chairs. Above the bed hung the picture of a middle-aged woman in a heavy gilt frame.
“My wife,” said Captain Hager, noticing Judy’s eyes upon the picture. “That was all I kept from the old place. Sold all my furniture at auction. An old salt like me can’t be bothered with fancy trappings.”
He limped as he walked across the cabin floor to pull out chairs for the girls.
“Your leg is bothering you?” Judy asked, taking the seat he offered.
“Oh, it’s the old rheumatiz come back to fret me,” Captain Hager sighed. “For the last couple o’ days I’ve been hobbling around like a cripple.”
Judy gazed at Kathleen despairingly, feeling that it would be useless even to broach the subject of the call. In seeking Captain Hager as a guide, she had forgotten that his lively talk and manner belied his age and infirmities.
“Now what brings you here?” the captain inquired. “If it’s fishing, I’ll have to say no, because I’m in dry dock for a couple of days until I get to feeling better again.”
“We didn’t know about your rheumatism,” Judy said. “I guess it’s quite out of the question.”
“What is?” the old man demanded. “It wasn’t fishing that brought you .”
Judy shook her head. “It’s Bart,” she told him. “We think he’s gone into the cave again. He’s been missing more than a day, and we’re afraid he’s trapped down there. Either that, or he’s attempted the siphon.”