In Search of an Unknown Race — page 210: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

196 VAN. Whether this be so or not, all at once Van’s eyes flew open as though moved by springs. He must have been dreaming still. For gazing down at him were the kindly eyes and the weather-beaten face, framed in iron-gray hair, which had been familiar to Van from his earliest infancy. Tears were trickling down his bronzed features, and as one of them plashed on Van’s cheek, he knew that it was no dream ! ‘‘Captain Josh!” he exclaimed, finding his voice for the first time, and I think it no discredit to his manhood that as the captain—for of course it was he—stooped down and kissed the boy’s forehead without speaking, the moisture filled his eyes in an instant. Captain Josh Peterson was a Christian man, and Van heard him say half aloud: ‘‘My God, I thank thee, for this my son was dead and is alive again—was lost and is found.” More beef tea, then a bowl of broth prepared by Sam Hi, the Chinese steward, the very fumes of which were enough to nourish and strengthen. Van sat up in his berth, as Captain Peterson stepped to the door to give an order to some one passing and, glanced about him. The spare stateroom in which he found himself was considerably larger and more hand- somely finished than any he had ever seen. ‘There was a stationary washstand in one corner; the curtained berths were paneled with rosewood, a handsome mirror was screwed against the walls, with brussels carpeting on the floor. ‘The whole interior was plainly revealed by the shaded light of a handsome bracket lamp. ‘‘You are on board the four-masted ship Fred Belling» Gomichooks (E(@) im