THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
sign's voiced dropped sympathetically. "He was lost, wasn't he?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm sorry I rattled on so about it! I'd forgotten that. By Jove, I don't blame you for wanting to get a whack at those murderers! You had a hard time, boy. Was your father killed outright?"
Nelson's eyes closed slightly and two vertical creases appeared above his straight nose. "I don't think so, sir. You see, they couldn't find him. Mr. Cupples, the mate, thought he might have been forward when the first shell struck and been knocked overboard. And I suppose that's the way it was, but dad was a good swimmer, and unless he was wounded first I don't see why we didn't find him. That shell cleaned out the forecastle and killed five of the crew, but it couldn't have hit anyone on deck, as I figure it. Dad might have been standing square over where the shell burst, perhaps. It's a sort of a mystery, sir, and I don't know what to think, only—somehow—I can't make up my mind that he's dead."
"Perhaps not," replied the other thoughtfully. "It's just as well to keep on hoping. He may turn up some day. Still, there's this to consider, Troy.
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