He set off the following afternoon followed by the stealthy glances of the crew, who had heard something from Henry, and, first getting his beard trimmed at a barber’s, walked along to call on Mrs. Gething. She was in, and pleased to see him, and hearing that his crew were also searching, supplied him with another photograph of the missing captain. “Miss Gething well?” inquired the skipper as, after accepting an invitation to a cup of tea, he noticed that she only laid for two. “Oh, yes; she’s gone to London,” said Mrs. Gething. “She’s got friends there, you know.” “Mr. Glover,” said the skipper to himself with dismal intuition. “I met a friend here the day before yesterday,” he said aloud. “Oh, yes—Mr. Glover,” said the old lady; “a man in a very good position. He’s very nice, isn’t he?” “Splendid,” murmured the skipper vaguely. “He would do anything for her,” said the fond mother. “I’m sure it’s quite touching the way he looks after her.” “Going to be married soon?” queried the skipper. He knew it was a rude question for a comparative stranger to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “When my husband is found,” said the old lady, shaking her head sadly. “She won’t marry till then.” The skipper sat back in his chair, and pushing his plate from him, pondered over this latest piece of information. It seemed at first an excellent reason for not finding Captain Gething, but the idea had hardly occurred to him before he dismissed it as unworthy, and manfully resolved to do his best. For an hour he sat listening to the somewhat prosy talk of the old lady, and then—there being no sign of Annis’s return—he silently departed and made his way back to the _Seamew_. CHAPTER VI To the cook’s relief he found that the _Seamew’s_ next voyage was to a little port on the West Coast named Cocklemouth, calling at the garrison town of Bymouth on the way. He told Sam that it was a load off his mind, and showed clearly by his manner that he expected the syndicate at least to accept his story. They spent most of their time in the galley, where, secure from money-grubbing eavesdroppers, they matured their plans over the washing of potatoes and the scouring of saucepans. “On the Trail” was remarkably clever, and they obtained many helpful suggestions from it, though the discovery that Henry had got hold of it, and had marked all the most valuable passages in lead pencil, caused them much anxiety. The syndicate were the first to get ashore the evening they arrived at Bymouth. They had come to the conclusion in their deliberations that the only possible place in which a retired mariner would spend his evenings was a public-house, and they resolved to do them thoroughly. “The worst of it,” said Sam, as they walked slowly together to the town, “is the drinkin’. Arter I’ve ’ad five or six pints, everybody looks to me like Cap’n Gething.” “We won’t ’ave no drinkin’,” said the cook. “We’ll do wot the feller did in that story. ’Ave you got sixpence about you?”