go out and face another. Then there would be a chance to do something, there would be an opportunity for action.
It seemed to Henry as though he simply could not endure to remain idle. Naturally he wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery of the field coil. But what he should do or what he should try to do he could not even imagine. To talk about the matter was useless. That would get him nowhere and advertise something that was known only to a few. Furthermore the captain himself was continuing his investigations, and had given strict orders not to talk about the affair.
When Henry chanced to pass the stateroom of the wireless operators, he thought he would stop and inquire how Mr. Sharp was. The latter had quite evidently been sick the preceding day, though he stuck to his post. Henry knocked at the door. A feeble voice invited him to come in. Henry entered, and found the chief electrician alone. Belford was on watch. Henry did not know where Black was. It did not matter. He saw at once that Mr. Sharp was very sick. His cheeks were flushed. Henry stepped to the bunk and laid his hand on the man’s forehead. It was dry and very hot, and his eyes had that burned-out, almost plaintive look, that fever sufferers sometimes have.
