Mulligan now caught the friendly ball and tossed it back ’with: 

“I knowed a feller once who was in Brazil—­so he said.  Purty hot down there, ain’t it, captain?”

“Yes; on the coast.  I ain’t never been back in the interior.”

Tod kept silent.  It was not his time to speak, nor would it be proper for him, nor necessary.  His chief knew his opinion and sympathies and no word of his could add to their sincerity.

Archie was the only man in the room, except Uncle Isaac, who regarded the announcement as personal to the captain.  Boys without fathers and fathers without boys had been topics which had occupied his mind ever since he could remember.  That this old man had found one of his own whom he loved and whom he wanted to get his arms around, was an inspiring thought to Archie.

“There’s no one happier than I am, captain,” he burst out enthusiastically.  “I’ve often heard of your son, and of his going away and of your giving him up for dead.  I’m mighty glad for you,” and he grasped his chief’s hand and shook it heartily.

As the lad’s fingers closed around the rough hand of the captain a furtive look flashed from out Morgan’s eyes.  It was directed to Parks—­they were both Barnegat men—­and was answered by that surfman with a slow-falling wink.  Tod saw it, and his face flushed.  Certain stories connected with Archie rose in his mind; some out of his childhood, others since he had joined the crew.

The captain’s eyes filled as he shook the boy’s hand, but he made no reply to Archie’s outburst.  Pausing for a moment, as if willing to listen to any further comments, and finding that no one else had any word for him, he turned on his heel and reentered his office.

Once inside, he strode to the window and looked out on the dunes, his big hands hooked behind his back, his eyes fixed on vacancy.

“It won’t be long, now, Archie, not long, my lad,” he said in a low voice, speaking aloud to himself.  “I kin say you’re my grandson out loud when Bart comes, and nothin’ kin or will stop me!  And now I kin tell Miss Jane.”

Thrusting the letter into his inside pocket, he picked up his cap, and strode across the dune in the direction of the new hospital.

Jane was in one of the wards when the captain sent word to her to come to the visiting-room.  She had been helping the doctor in an important operation.  The building was but half way between the Station and Warehold, which made it easier for the captain to keep his eye on the sea should there be any change in the weather.

Jane listened to the captain’s outburst covering the announcement that Bart was alive without a comment.  Her face paled and her breathing came short, but she showed no signs of either joy or sorrow.  She had faced too many surprises in her life to be startled at anything.  Then again, Bart alive or dead could make no difference now in either her own or Lucy’s future.