The one I could not serve,
even if I wanted; the other I had no means of finding,
even if I could have at all influenced him after he was
found.
And for all that, I was close on the heels of an absurd
adventure. My neighbour at table that evening was a
'Frisco man whom I knew slightly. I found he had
crossed the plains two days in front of me, and this
was the first steamer that had left New York for Europe
since his arrival. Two days before me meant a day
before Bellairs; and dinner was scarce done before I
was closeted with the purser.
"Bellairs?" he repeated. "Not in the saloon, I am
sure. He may be in the second class. The lists are
not made out, but--Hullo! "Harry D. Bellairs"? That
the name? He's there right enough."
And the next morning I saw him on the forward deck,
sitting in a chair, a book in his hand, a shabby puma
skin rug about his knees: the picture of respectable
decay. Off and on, I kept him in my eye. He read a
good deal, he stood and looked upon the sea, he talked
occasionally with his neighbours, and once when a child
fell he picked it up and soothed it.
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