“Do you mind asking, or letting me ask? We are very anxious to get hold of Mr. Goddedaal.”
“All right,” said the clerk, and turned to the telephone. “I'm sorry,” he said presently, “Mr. Goddedaal has left the ship, and no one knows where he is.”
“Do you pay the men's passage home?” I inquired, a sudden thought striking me.
“If they want it,” said the clerk; “sometimes they don't. But we paid the Kanaka's passage to Honolulu this morning; and by what Captain Trent was saying, I understand the rest are going home together.”
“Then you haven't paid them?” said I.
“Not yet,” said the clerk.
“And you would be a good deal surprised, if I were to tell you they were gone already?” I asked.
“O, I should think you were mistaken,” said he.
“Such is the fact, however,” said I.
“I am sure you must be mistaken,” he repeated.