Somehow I was not so sure; there were elements in the case, not known to Pinkerton--the fears of the captain, for example --that inclined me otherwise; and the idea that I had terrified Mr. Dickson into flight, though resting on so slender a foundation, clung obstinately in my mind. "Shouldn't we see the list of passengers?" I asked.
"Dickson is such a blamed common name," returned Jim; "and then, as like as not, he would change it."
At this I had another intuition. A negative of a street scene, taken unconsciously when I was absorbed in other thought, rose in my memory with not a feature blurred: a view, from Bellairs's door as we were coming down, of muddy roadway, passing drays, matted telegraph wires, a Chinaboy with a basket on his head, and (almost opposite) a corner grocery with the name of Dickson in great gilt letters.
"Yes," said I, "you are right; he would change it. And anyway, I don't believe it was his name at all; I believe he took it from a corner grocery beside Bellairs's."
"As like as not," said Jim, still standing on the sidewalk with contracted brows.
"Well, what shall we do next?" I asked.
"The natural thing would be to rush the schooner," he replied.
"But I don't know. I telephoned the captain to go at it head down and heels in air; he answered like a little man; and I guess he's getting around. I believe, Loudon, we'll give Trent a chance. Trent was in it; he was in it up to the neck; even if he couldn't buy, he could give us the straight tip."
"I think so, too," said I. "Where shall we find him?"
"British consulate, of course," said Jim. "And that's another reason for taking him first. We can hustle that schooner up all evening; but when the consulate's shut, it's shut."
At the consulate, we learned that Captain Trent had alighted (such is I believe the classic phrase) at the What Cheer House.
To that large and unaristocratic hostelry we drove, and addressed ourselves to a large clerk, who was chewing a toothpick and looking straight before him.
"Captain Jacob Trent?"
"Gone," said the clerk.
"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.
Amalu.
"Pinkerton," said I, suddenly, "have you that _Occidental_ in your pocket?"
"Never left me," said Pinkerton, producing the paper.
I turned to the account of the wreck. "Here," said I; "here's the name. 'Elias Goddedaal, mate.' Why do we never come across Elias Goddedaal?"
"That's so," said Jim. "Was he with the rest in that saloon when you saw them?"
"I don't believe it," said I. "They were only four, and there was none that behaved like a mate."
At this moment the clerk returned with his report.
"The captain," it appeared, "came with some kind of an express waggon, and he and the man took off three chests and a big satchel. Our porter helped to put them on, but they drove the cart themselves. The porter thinks they went down town. It was about one."
"Still in time for the City of Pekin," observed Jim.
"How many of them were here?" I inquired.
"Three, sir, and the Kanaka," replied the clerk. "I can't somehow fin out about the third, but he's gone too."
"Mr. Goddedaal, the mate, wasn't here then?" I asked.
"No, Mr. Dodd, none but what you see," says the clerk.
"Nor you never heard where he was?"
"No. Any particular reason for finding these men, Mr. Dodd?" inquired the clerk.
"This gentleman and I have bought the wreck," I explained;"we wished to get some information, and it is very annoying to find the men all gone."
A certain group had gradually formed about us, for the wreck was still a matter of interest; and at this, one of the bystanders, a rough seafaring man, spoke suddenly.
"I guess the mate won't be gone," said he. "He's main sick; never left the sick-bay aboard the Tempest; so they tell ME."
Jim took me by the sleeve. "Back to the consulate," said he.
But even at the consulate nothing was known of Mr.
Goddedaal. The doctor of the Tempest had certified him very sick; he had sent his papers in, but never appeared in person before the authorities.
"Have you a telephone laid on to the Tempest?" asked Pinkerton.
"Laid on yesterday," said the clerk.
"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.
