Nodding and exchanging congratulations with acquaintances in the crowd
on the success of the fire-fighting, Captain Eri led his messmates to a
dark corner under a clump of trees. Then he took each of them by the arm
and whispered sharply:

"Dr. Palmer's somewheres in this crowd. I want each of you fellers to go
diff'rent ways and look for him. Whichever one finds him fust can bring
him up to the corner by the post-office. Whistle when you git there and
the rest of us 'll come. Don't stop to ask questions. I ain't hurt, but
John Baxter's had a stroke or somethin'. I can't tell you no more now.
Hurry! And say, don't you mention to a soul what the matter is."

A sea-faring life has its advantages. It teaches prompt obedience, for
one thing. The two mariners did not hesitate an instant, but bolted in
opposite directions. Captain Eri watched them go, and then set off in
another. He was stopped every few moments and all sorts of questions and
comments concerning the fire and its cause were fired at him, but he
put off some inquiries with a curt "Don't know" and others with nods
or negatives, and threaded his way from one clump of townspeople to
another. As he came close to the blackened and smoking billiard saloon,
Ralph Hazeltine caught him by the arm.

"Hello!" said the electrician. "Haven't you gone home yet?"

"No, not yit. Say, I'll ask you, 'cause I cal'late you can keep your
mouth shut if it's necessary: Have you seen the Doctor anywheres 'round
lately? He was here, 'cause I saw him when I fust come."

"Who, Dr. Palmer? No; I haven't seen him. Is anyone hurt? Can I help?"