“That’s what I figured.” An idea had come to Frank when he heard the music, and he didn’t like it very much. Still, they ought to make sure Salty wasn’t onboard before checking out his new hunch. “Can you take us to the crew quarters? If there’s a poker game going on anywhere, Salty can usually sniff it out.”
“I can promise you, the old fella isn’t there, Mr. Morgan. I just came from there to go on duty.”
Frank didn’t have any reason to doubt the man’s word. “What about the officers’ quarters?” he asked.
The sailor shook his head. “No, sir, he wouldn’t be there. None of the crew is allowed to fraternize with the passengers. Cap’n Beswick wouldn’t stand for it.”
Meg sighed in frustration. “Then where could he have gone?”
“There,” Frank said, tipping his head toward the settlement. That made some mist that had collected on his hat drip off the brim in front of his face.
Meg’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “You think he went to …?”
Her voice trailed off as she didn’t finish the question.
“I reckon they have some saloons in that town, son?” Frank asked the sailor.
“Yes, sir, several. Does Mr. Stevens, uh, like to take a drink now and then?”
“He used to,” Frank said.
“He wouldn’t have any trouble finding a place to do that in Powderkeg Bay. Or to indulge in any other sort of vice you can think of.” The young salt cast an embarrassed glance toward Meg. “Begging your pardon, ma’am.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Meg told him with a wave of her hand. “Frank, we’ve got to find Salty. I thought he gave up drinking.”
“He did,” Frank said, “but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t get tempted from time to time. All it would take would be a moment of weakness.”
He turned toward the gangplank that led from the ship’s deck to the dock.
“Wait a minute, sir,” the sailor said. “Have you ever been to Powderkeg Bay before?”
“Never even heard of the place until today.”
“It has a bad reputation. It would be dangerous for a stranger to go wandering around alone. Cap’n Beswick even put the town off-limits to the crew.”
Frank smiled. “I can take care of myself, son.”
“But sir—”
“Do you know who this is?” Meg interrupted. “This is Frank Morgan. People call him the Drifter.”
The sailor’s face showed his surprise. “The famous gunfighter? Really?”
“I’m Frank Morgan,” Frank said. “The famous part doesn’t concern me.”
“Why don’t you let me take you to see the cap’n?” the sailor suggested. “Maybe he could send some men with you to help you search for Mr. Stevens.”
That wasn’t a bad idea, Frank decided. He nodded and said, “All right, son, let’s go.”
The sailor led the way forward and down another set of steps. Companionways, Frank thought they were called. Or maybe those were the corridors below decks. He wasn’t sure. He was a landlubber at heart, no doubt about that, he thought as he smiled wryly to himself despite his worry over Salty’s possible whereabouts.
A brisk voice answered, “Come in!” when the sailor knocked on a door.
The young man opened it and said, “Cap’n, a couple of the passengers need to speak to you.”
The captain didn’t invite them into his cabin. Instead, he stepped out into the corridor. He wasn’t wearing his coat or his cap, but he still stood ramrod-stiff as he frowned at the sailor.
“What’s this about, Monroe?”
Frank spoke up. “We asked the young fella if we could talk to you, Captain.”
The lantern-jawed man with bushy side whiskers regarded Frank with a cool stare. “Mr. Morgan, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Frank said with a nod. “This is Miss Goodwin.”
Captain Beswick inclined his head politely toward Meg. “What can I do for you folks?”
“Our friend Mr. Stevens doesn’t seem to be onboard the ship tonight.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“He’s not in his cabin or on deck,” Meg said.
“We haven’t looked in the officers’ quarters or the crew’s quarters,” Frank added.
“Or in the other passengers’ cabins, I’ll wager,” Beswick said.
Frank and Meg glanced at each other. She shook her head.
Beswick smiled an annoyingly indulgent smile as he said, “So you see, there are still plenty of places he could be.” His voice sharpened as he looked at the sailor and went on, “Monroe, get some of the crew and conduct a search. Locate Mr. Stevens and then report back here.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Monroe said. He hurried off.
