This inevitable condition compelled him, much against his will, to charter the yacht to Sub-Lieutenant Hamerton, and now he was on his way to recover his most precious possession from the hands of the Dutch salvors.
"You've got the yacht's papers, I hope?" asked Stirling as the train glided out of the station.
"No, I haven't. How could I? They went with the boat."
"Then how do you propose to establish your identity? The Dutchmen won't feel inclined to hand the Diomeda over until you prove you are the lawful owner."
"I've sufficient documentary evidence," replied Smith. "You leave that to me."
"If you're satisfied I am," remarked Stirling. "By the by, what were those fellows like who chartered her?"
The Diomeda's owner proceeded to give a detailed description of the unfortunate Hamerton and his chum Detroit. This done, he took up a newspaper and began to read, while Stirling wrote an account of the two supposed victims for the benefit of the patrons of The Yachtman's Journal.
"By the by," said Stirling, "is there any more news about that spy case? I suppose the two men are no relations of yours?"
"We all belong to the great and noble family of Smiths," replied the literary man oracularly. "It's a bit confusing at times, especially when one receives a blue envelope intended for a very distant relation. I've had some."
Octavius once more buried himself in his paper. Stirling resumed his scribbling, and thus the time passed until the train reached Harwich.