“Where the dickens has he gone to?” he asked. “He might have known we’d be back for him as soon as the fog cleared away.” “Well, I suppose we could hardly expect him to spend the day here waiting for us,” said Nelson. “Probably he found a house where he could get dry and have something to eat. As we can’t see any from here maybe he had to go quite a ways. We’ll wait a while and see if he doesn’t turn up.” “Bet you he’s asleep in the best bed in the house,” laughed Dan. “We’ll be lucky if he turns up before to-morrow noon. Tommy’s just as likely as not to sleep the clock around if there’s nobody there to wake him up!” “I suppose,” said Bob, “we might as well have something to eat while we wait.” But Dan demurred. “No, let’s go back to New London and get a good feed. We’ll wait until six-thirty and if he doesn’t show up by that time—Say, maybe he’s gone back to New London himself!” “I’ll bet he has,” Nelson agreed. “Let’s go and see.” So they returned up the broad twilit stream and made their former berth near the ferry slip. A hasty toilet followed and then they hurried up the street to the hotel. But no Tommy awaited them. The clerk assured them that no one answering to the description which they gave had been seen that day. Nor did the register show Tom’s elegant handwriting. But after the first moment of disappointment they comforted themselves with the assurance that the missing member of the crew was quite safe somewhere, and went in to dinner. Nor did anxiety over Tom’s fate interfere with their appetites. Up until bedtime they expected at any moment to see Tom stumble down the steps, and when, at half-past nine, lights went out it was unanimously decided to leave the hatch unlocked in case he should turn up during the night. Once, along toward morning, Bob was dimly aware of some one moving about the cabin. “That you, Tommy?” he asked sleepily. But if there was any answer he didn’t hear it, for he fell asleep again immediately. In the morning, in the act of yawning and stretching his arms over his head, he recollected the noise in the night and looked inquiringly at Tom’s bunk. But it hadn’t been slept in. Bob puzzled over this fact for a moment. Then—— “Where’s Tom?” he asked. “How the dickens do I know?” asked Dan, sitting up in his berth. “Didn’t he come back last night? I heard some one and I thought sure it was Tommy.” “That was me,” said Nelson, opening his eyes. “You asked if it was Tommy and I said No. I was closing the ports. The wind and rain were just drowning me out.” “Rain!” exclaimed Bob and Dan simultaneously. Then—— “Gee, what a storm!” muttered Dan, as he subsided after a glance through the nearest port. “I see where we stay in New London for a day or two.” “Well,” said Bob philosophically, “it’s better to be here than tied up in some little old cove along the Sound. We can go ashore, at least.” “That’s so,” agreed Dan. “And maybe there’ll be another show at the theater.”