The Wireless Officer shook his head sadly.
"'Fraid he's done in," he answered. "When the ship disappeared he was with me on the bridge. I never set eyes on him after that."
"Rough luck," murmured Preston. "His last voyage before he went on the beach with a pension. Sound old chap too, although hard to get on with at times."
"One of the best," declared Mostyn.
There was silence for a few moments.
"Mostyn, old son," exclaimed Preston. "How about a cigarette?"
"Wish I could oblige you," replied Peter; "but there isn't a shred of tobacco in the boat. I had my case full in the wireless-room when she sank—a silver presentation case—and I quite forgot to ram it into my pocket."
The Acting Chief smiled wanly, and immediately regretted having done so. It was a painful process, with one side of his face battered.
"You ought to have known better than that," he remarked reprovingly. "Especially as you've been through much the same sort of thing before. Tobacco takes the edge off a fellow's hunger. I suppose your case was watertight?"
"I think so," replied Peter. "But since I haven't got it I don't see that it matters."