"Where has he gone?" asked Pinkerton.
"Cain't say," said the clerk.
"When did he go?" I asked.
"Don't know," said the clerk, and with the simplicity
of a monarch offered us the spectacle of his broad
back.
What might have happened next I dread to picture, for
Pinkerton's excitement had been growing steadily, and
now burned dangerously high; but we were spared
extremities by the intervention of a second clerk.
"Why, Mr. Dodd!" he exclaimed, running forward to the
counter. "Glad to see you, sir! Can I do anything in
your way?"
How virtuous actions blossom! Here was a young man to
whose pleased ears I had rehearsed "Just before the
Battle, Mother," at some weekly picnic; and now, in
that tense moment of my life, he came (from the
machine) to be my helper.
"Captain Trent, of the wreck? O yes, Mr. Dodd; he left
about twelve; he and another of the men. The Kanaka
went earlier, by the CITY OF PEKIN; I know that; I
remember expressing his chest. Captain Trent? I'll
inquire, Mr. Dodd. Yes, they were all here. Here are
the names on the register; perhaps you would care to
look at them while I go and see about the baggage?"
I drew the book toward me, and stood looking at the
four names, all written in the same hand--rather a big,
and rather a bad one: Trent, Brown, Hardy, and (instead
of Ah Sing) Jos.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272