He was still overwhelmed with grief at the supposed loss of his brave young uncle, but he had already resolved upon a plan of action, and felt better for having done so.

He would send a telegram to his father hinting at the great sorrow that had overtaken them, and asking him to come on at once.

Then he would notify the police of the collision, with its probable loss of at least three lives, and ask them to keep a watch for the bodies.

He would also tell them of the lost raft.
After great searching, Clod finally produced an old pen, some very thick ink, and a few sheets of paper quite yellow with age.

Then he watched with respectful admiration the writing of the telegram, for penmanship was an art he had never acquired.