The Wilderness Castaways Part 36

"Read it! Read it!" exclaimed the secretary, holding the open telegram before Densmore's eyes.

Densmore, who had risen to his feet, read it, and leaned back heavily against the desk. Then he caught the telegram eagerly from Hadden's hand and read it again.

"Is it possible, Hadden? Is it possible?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes," answered the secretary with a.s.surance. "I've studied the maps of that country ever since the boy's disappearance. He's worked his way down with natives to Winnipeg. I'm sure it's straight!"

Densmore was quite alive now. His face was beaming, and his old-time energy had returned as by magic.

"Call Dr. Philpot on the telephone at once," he commanded. "Take this wire and rush it off," and he dictated the telegram which made Paul so happy. "And this:

"'Captain Zachariah Bluntt, St. Johns, Newfoundland.

"'My son and Dan Rudd are safe in Winnipeg. They are coming direct to New York. Advise Rudd's parents.

"'JOHN DENSMORE.'

"Call a taxi. 'Phone Remington!"

The telephone bell on his desk tinkled and he grabbed the instrument.

"h.e.l.lo! Dr. Philpot? This is Densmore. I've just received a wire from Paul. He's safe in Winnipeg. Is it safe to tell Mrs. Densmore?"

A pause.

"Safe, you say? Just the sort of shock she needs to restore her? Good!

Good! I'm going right home. Be there when I arrive. All right.

Good-by.

"Attend to these things on my desk, Hadden! I'm off to Toronto tonight! King Edward Hotel. Good-by."

And he rushed to the elevator, and from the elevator to the waiting taxicab, thrust a bill in the chauffeur's hand and ordered:

"The fastest you ever ran."

All speed laws were broken in the flight that followed to the Densmore mansion on Riverside Drive. Policemen waved their arms and shouted warnings, pedestrians dodged, many narrow escapes from collisions were made by a hair's breadth, but the chauffeur knew his business, and Densmore could not ride fast enough.

Dr. Philpot was waiting.

"Go right up, Densmore, and tell her. I'll follow presently," he suggested.

When Densmore entered his wife's apartment a moment later, his face reflecting joy and excitement, she sprang to him, crying:

"Oh, John! John! What is it?"

"Paul's safe," said he, wrapping her in his arms. "He's safe in Winnipeg, and on his way to us, Mother!"

"Oh, is it true? Is it true?" she almost screamed, and began to weep and laugh hysterically as he repeated the telegram to her.

Then with her head on his shoulder she wept quietly, deliciously, joyously, and the tears washed away the grief of months.

"Oh, Father," she said at length, lifting a tear-stained but happy face to his, as she dried her eyes, "it's a miracle. But I can't wait to see him--I just can't!"

"Well, get ready, dear, to leave on the eight o'clock train this evening. We're to go to Toronto to meet him--if Dr. Philpot says you may."

Dr. Philpot, who had joined them to observe his patient, said she might if one of the trained nurses went too.

"And," added the doctor, "I think I'll go with you."

An hour later Remington was announced. A load of anxiety and self-condemnation lifted from his shoulders, he, too, was in a state of happy excitement.

"Come along, Remington," invited Densmore. "We're off to Toronto to meet Paul. You're one of the party," and Remington accepted.

The _North Star_ was in dry dock in St. Johns, undergoing repairs, and Captain Zachariah Bluntt was enjoying a month ash.o.r.e. He spent his days superintending repairs, and regularly at six o'clock each evening went home, ate supper, donned a pair of big carpet slippers, lighted his pipe, and settled himself for a comfortable hour reading the shipping news in _The Chronicle_. Mrs. Bluntt as regularly joined him, with a lapful of things to mend, while the two Misses Bluntt cleared away the supper things and retired to the kitchen to wash the dishes before joining the sitting-room circle.

The household was thus engaged one evening when the doorbell rang. One of the Misses Bluntt answered the ring, and a moment later burst into the living room to disturb Captain Bluntt's reading with the announcement:

"A telegram, Father."

"Now I wonders what's happened!" exclaimed Mrs. Bluntt, for the receipt of a telegram was no ordinary occurrence in the routine life of the household.

"We'll see! We'll see!" said Captain Bluntt, and placing a finger under the flap of the envelope he tore it open, withdrew the telegram, carefully unfolded it and held it up at arm's length to read.

"By the imps of the sea! By the imps of the sea!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet.

"The two youngsters, Dan Rudd and the Densmore youngster! They're safe! Here it is! It says they're safe! Safe, I say!"

The family were in a state of high excitement at once. Mrs. Bluntt and the two Misses Bluntt surrounded the Captain, asking all together, "Where are they? Let me see it. How did they get there?" and a flood of other questions and exclamations. At length, the full meaning of the telegram digested, Captain Bluntt announced:

"I'm goin' t' New York! The rascals! I' goin' t' New York on the first train! On the first train!" and grabbing his hat he started for the door.

"But, Father, the train don't go till tomorrow evenin'," informed one of his daughters.

"I know! I know! But I wants t' get Tom Hand. I'll send Tom Hand t'

Ragged Cove on th' mail boat. Sails in th' morning! Want Tom t' take word t' Dan's folks!"

"Well for goodness' sake, Skipper, take off those slippers first and put on your shoes," suggested Mrs. Bluntt.

"Yes, yes, to be sure! To be sure! And I'll write a letter for Tom to take. Yes, yes, he better have a letter!" and Captain Bluntt impatiently donned his shoes, wrote the letter and hurried away on his mission.

Half an hour later the Captain returned.

"Now that's fixed. That's all right. Tom goes on the mail boat. Wanted to let 'em know. Make 'em feel good! Yes, make 'em feel good! Those rascals! Saved all this if they'd come back t' the ship according t'

orders. Have t' wring their necks! Yes, have t' wring their necks when I gets hold of 'em. Pair of young rascals!"

The following evening Captain Bluntt, dressed in his Sunday clothes, his bushy red beard bristling importantly, boarded the train, bade good-by to Mrs. Bluntt and his two daughters, who had gone to see him off, and at six o'clock began an impatient flight to New York, and, in spite of his always-expressed disapproval of railway travel, was undoubtedly the happiest pa.s.senger on the train.