“He has,” answered the agent. “He signed for a trip to China, and it will be a good while before he gets back here, I’m afraid. It’s a long voyage.”
“To China!” cried Joe. “Oh, if he had only received my letter he would be here now with me. Poor Dad!”
CHAPTER XIII
A MIMIC FIRE
“Sorry I can’t do any more for you,” went on the agent, after a pause, during which he gazed sympathetically at Joe. “I can give you the name of the vessel your father is on, and you can write to Hong Kong, but it will be some time before she arrives. She’s a sailing ship, you know, one of the few left in the trade.”
“I didn’t know my father was a regular sailor,” said Joe.
“You didn’t know he was a sailor? Say, don’t you know your father’s business?”
“It’s been a good many years since I’ve seen him,” spoke Joe. “In fact, I can’t remember him,” and he told something of how he came to be on the strange quest.