CHAPTER XIV
In the Sunshine
“I’M kind of glad you could run down, Peter. I’ve put that report through to our people. This is the message I handed ’em.”
Ivor McLagan held out the copy of the message he had despatched from Beacon, and, while his assistant read it, he stood with narrowed eyes gazing down upon the wrecked vessel standing high out of the waters of the bay below.
He had not long returned from Beacon, and Peter Loby had made a special trip down the river to meet him. Deeply as McLagan was concerned for any further news his subordinate might have brought from the camp on the river, the wreck below had lost none of its interest for him. In fact, for some unexplained reason, it had taken even a firmer hold upon his imagination.
Curiosity had by no means a prominent place in his psychology. Ordinarily he was not seriously concerned for happenings which had no intimate relation to the affairs of his life. He was sufficiently self-centred in the work that was his to leave such a thing as the sudden appearance of a derelict of the sea, flung almost on his doorstep, a thing without more than passing interest, after he had ascertained that no human life stood in need of his succour. But strangely enough the vessel lying upon its deathbed below him, claimed him with greater force than he would have cared to admit. His mind had been full of it on his journey into Beacon. Its memory had remained with him and deeply increased its spell, as he made his report to Alan Goodchurch, and his journey back to his home on the cliffs had been made with haste inspired by the strange feeling of unrest with which the thought of those last moments he had spent on the deck of the vessel had filled him.
Now the wreck was standing out amidst its rugged surroundings, under a blaze of sunshine, and, as his gaze took in its details, his mind was full of questioning and unease. The condition of the vessel had apparently changed very little. The tides that had passed since his first visit to it had left it wholly undisturbed. Its sails were in worse shape, and their tattered remains fluttered and whipped furiously in the breeze and sent the gulls screaming as they sought to find resting place on the creaking yards. But he was not thinking of any of these things. No, he was thinking——
Peter looked up from his reading.
“That’s a good report, McLagan,” he conceded with a grin. “It’s a deal better done than mine. I surely guess that’ll set our folks smiling a mile wide.” He drew a deep breath. “Well, they can keep right on grinning. They’re on a bonanza, or I’m all sorts of a mutt.”
He gazed up into the face of his chief as he offered his frank comment and passed back the copy of the message.