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Clouston, J. Storer (Joseph Storer), 1870-1944

"The Man from the Clouds"

So I
stammered something, and then we looked at one another for a moment, and
I hurriedly went back to my room.

IX
BOLTON ON THE TEACK

"Only one survivor."
The doctor looked into my room about eight o'clock next morning to give
me this brief bulletin. At breakfast he told me he had been out most of
the night, but there had only been that single case for him. A boat from
the island had picked a solitary living seaman out of the scum of oil,
blackened by it like a negro and without a stitch of clothing. Some of
the dead had been found, but not in a condition to be discussed, and of
course many fragments of debris. And now a number of patrol boats were on
the scene, he had handed over his patient to a naval doctor, and that was
all the news of the tragedy up till eight o'clock.
I knew that John Whiteclett would certainly be in one of the patrol
boats, and I spent the morning in looking out for him. Thus by an
apparent accident when the Commander did land about noon he very soon
walked into Mr. Hobhouse. My cousin's face was grave and set, and there
being no witnesses, neither of us luckily had to act.
"Well, Jack?" I said.
"Did you see it happen?" he demanded.
"I happened to be at my window."
"Tell me what you saw," said he.
I told him and he nodded at intervals.


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