Part 27 (1/2)

”Our sailing, as I told you before, is day after to-morrow. But one of the other lines has a sailing to-morrow, at nine P. M.”

”They all seem to sail at nine o'clock at night,” mused Sam.

”Yes, that is the usual hour,” answered the clerk.

”Well, if we have to, we can take that boat at nine o'clock to-morrow night,” remarked d.i.c.k.

”Provided you can get accommodations,” said the clerk.

”Oh, we'll get aboard somehow--if we really have to go.”

Jim Hendricks insisted that the Rovers ride up to his house with him, and away sped the touring car for the most fas.h.i.+onable quarter of Seattle. Here the Hendricks had a beautiful mansion, and here the newcomers were cordially greeted by Mrs. Hendricks, the colonel being out of the city on business.

”You've just got to make yourselves at home,” said Jim. ”It won't do a bit of good to fret so much. You are bound to get hold of poor Tom sooner or later, and I can't see that this trip to Alaska is going to hurt him any. It may do him good.”

”But he may wander away and we may lose all track of him,” answered Sam. ”I've heard of persons disappearing like that.”

The Hendricks did all in their power to make the Rovers feel at home.

Sam and d.i.c.k were utterly worn out and took a brief rest. After that came an elaborate meal, served in the Hendricks' s.p.a.cious dining room.

The telephone rang several times, but they were only local messages, of no importance to the Rover boys. But then came another message that filled them with interest, being from the wireless office.

”It's from Captain Dwight,” explained Jim, who took the message down.

”Too bad,” he murmured.

”What does he say?” demanded Sam and d.i.c.k, in a breath.

”He can't find anybody by the name of Paul Haverlock, nor can he find any pa.s.senger answering to the description you gave him of Tom. He says, 'Too many answering your general description,' which means that he can't pick Tom out, even if he is on board.”

”Tom must have changed his name again,” said Sam. ”Most likely he gives any name that happens to come into his head.”

”But he ought to be on the steamer's list of pa.s.sengers.”

”That's true. I can't understand it.”

For a long time the Rover boys talked the matter over. Had Tom really gone to Alaska?

”We had better make some inquiries at the dock from which that steamer sailed,” said d.i.c.k. ”Maybe we'll meet somebody who will remember Tom.”

The next morning found them at the dock, Jim going with them. All sorts of men and boys were interviewed, and at last they met a taxicab driver who had carried Tom from the railroad station. He recognized the photograph at once.

”Yes, I took him from the depot to the s.h.i.+pping office, and then carried his handbag to the steamer,” said the taxicab driver. ”He was a fine young man,” he added.

”Maybe he tipped you pretty good,” ventured d.i.c.k, with a faint smile.

”He sure did;--gave me fare and a dollar over.”

”And you are dead sure he got on the steamer?” insisted Sam.

”I am. He was almost the last pa.s.senger on board and I am sure he didn't come ash.o.r.e again.”