"It's quite about time," replied Gordon Stirling unconcernedly as he caught the envelope his companion tossed towards him.
Ten days had elapsed since Stirling had set out to carry off a journalistic scoop. Allowing for two Sundays, that were not counted in ordinary leave, only six more days remained. In less than a week he would have to be slogging away in the Inland Revenue Office at Lowestoft, making up arrears of work that his confrères were bound to keep open for him. That is one of the ethics of a Government Department. A fellow returning from leave is supposed to be like a young giant refreshed with wine—ready and willing to tackle any accumulative work. The result is that almost all the benefits from a holiday are thrown away upon a desperate attempt to reduce the pile of bookwork to reasonable dimensions.
For days past the westerly breeze had held. Smith was beginning to fret at the enforced detention, especially as he learnt from meteorological reports that only a few miles to the north the wind was almost exactly in the opposite direction.
"There you are!" exclaimed Stirling excitedly. "Didn't I say so?"
"Say what?" demanded the skipper, deliberately recharging his pipe.
"I'll read you Pfeil's letter. There are one or two words I can't make out without a dictionary, but I can make a very good guess at them:
"T.B.D. S167.
"KIEL.
"DEAR SIR,—
"In answer to your letter, I hasten to send this by the next dispatch. I know your friends, Herr Hamerton and Herr Detroit, are in Heligoland, so there must be a mistake in the story that they met with a disaster. How I know is this: my brother Sigismund is in S174, one of the boats operating with us when I fell overboard and was rescued by your friends. Directly I was landed I wrote to him assuring him of my safety, and describing the yacht and her crew who treated me so kindly. In his reply he told me the English yacht was lying off Heligoland, and that Herr Hamerton and his friend had landed to be the guests of one of our German officers. The next day the yacht was towed away—I think it was to Bremen—to undergo some repairs. The Englishmen remained. Five days ago my brother's torpedo-boat destroyer S174 left for the purpose of towing her back to Heligoland. She has apparently been delayed by bad weather, for she has not yet returned. This ought to dispel any doubts in your mind concerning an accident to your friends. We leave for Stettin to-morrow on a three-weeks' cruise.
"With respects,
"Yours,
"HANS PFEIL."