The hours during which the tempest raged were fraught with horror for Roy Morton. He was in despair now, for he could not believe that The Isabel would be able to ride out the gale. His imagination pictured for him with frightful vividness the wreck of the yacht and its carrying down to death the girl he loved. The young man's agony of spirit was so evident that Van Dusen became alarmed lest he should break down. The detective thought to distract Roy from his morbid thoughts by suggesting that they take a trip into the town to lessen the tedium of waiting until the storm should wear itself out. His persistence at last won a reluctant consent, and the two set forth.... In after years, Roy was to think often with shuddering of what must have been the dreadful result, had he indeed refused to accompany the detective on that excursion into the town.
CHAPTER VIII
The Efficiency of Clam Broth
The mere act of rapid walking had a beneficial effect upon Roy. His circulation was equalized by the exercise and something of his natural buoyancy of spirit was restored to him. The detective, too, found pleasure in the tramp, and the young men walked along many miles of the Norfolk streets, aimless, but well entertained. They swung at last into the square where a huge monument commemorates the Lost Cause and heroic dead. Suddenly Van Dusen's attention was attracted to a huge gilt sign over the door of a saloon. The outer aspect of the place was attractive enough, with something of distinctiveness about it. He turned to Roy and spoke with a tone of amused interest.
"That seems a bit different from other saloons. And I fancy the sign tells the truth." With the words, he pointed to the gilt lettering over the door.
Roy turned and looked in the direction of the detective's pointing finger. "Clam Broth King," he read, and smiled appreciatively.
"Well, old man," he remarked, "it's a straightforward way of advertising a food, as well as a novel one. And from the labels on the bottles in the window, it might prove a good place for us to visit before we start on the return journey to the yacht."
"I really know the place," Van Dusen declared, "and it is excellent. About a year ago, I was in this city on an important case. It was through the assistance of The King that I was able to locate a most valuable witness. And the probability is that but for the sign I would have missed it. I've always been a perfect fiend for clam broth. After seeing the sign, I knew, of course, there must be something particular in that line inside, and so I wandered in. Well, I was served by The King. When I first entered, I reconnoitered by stepping up to the bar and ordering a drink. Before I had a chance to question the man who was serving me, a gentlemanly appearing fellow touched me on the arm, and asked me pleasantly if I wouldn't like a cup of clam broth. He said that The King had just made a fresh batch, and that it was fine. I scrutinized the fellow closely. He had a kindly, youthful face, and his bearing was agreeable. I answered him promptly that good clam broth was just what I wished to have. 'But,' I demanded, 'who the devil is The King? It's a new one on me, to have a king for a chef.'
"The man laughed and then replied: