Trendon made a quick gesture of impatience and rebuke.
"No," said Slade. "Left three—four—don't know how many nights ago."
The officers looked at each other. "Go on," said Trendon to his companion.
"We put a crew aboard in command of an ensign," continued Barnett, "and picked up the schooner the next night, deserted. You must know about it. Where is Billy Edwards?"
"Never heard of him," whispered the other.
"Ives and McGuire, then. They were there after Great God, man!" he cried, his agitation breaking out, "Pull yourself together! Give us something to go on."
"Mr. Barnett!" said the surgeon peremptorily.
But the suggestion was working in the sick man's brain. He turned to the officers a face of horror.
"Your man, Edwards—the crew—they left her? In the night?"
"What does he mean?" cried Barnett.
"The light! You saw it?"
"Yes; we saw a strange light," answered Trendon soothingly. Slade half rose. "Lost; all lost!" he cried, and fell back unconscious. Trendon exploded into curses. "See what you've done to my patient," he fumed. Barnett looked at him with contrite eyes.
"Better get out before he comes to," growled the surgeon. "Nice way to treat a man half dead of exhaustion."
It was nearly an hour before Slade came back to the world again. The doctor forbade him to attempt
