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.
“Oh, I should think you were mistaken,” said he.
“Such is the fact, however,” said I.
“I am sure you must be mistaken,” he repeated.
“May I use your telephone one moment?” asked Pinkerton; and as soon as permission had been granted, I heard him ring up the printing-office where our advertisements were usually handled. More I did not hear; for suddenly recalling the big, bad hand in the register of the What Cheer House, I asked the consulate clerk if he had a specimen of Captain Trent's writing. Whereupon I learned that the captain could not write, having cut his hand open a little before the loss of the brig; that the latter part of the log even had been written up by Mr. Goddedaal; and that Trent had always signed with his left hand.
