No News Is Bad News

HAVING BEEN honorary secretary of the Bermagui Big Game Anglers’ Club from its inception, Mr Edward Blade had at his finger-tips a wide knowledge of game fishing in the waters off the south coast of New South Wales, and of men, launches and tackle. It is doubtful if anyone better could have been found for this position, for Blade was that rarity among men, a born club secretary combining a business education with charming social qualities. His life at Bermagui was of even tenor, due more to his personality and temperament than to outside influences such as the non-arrival of important gear or the difficulty in fitting an angler’s application for a launch into an extended busy period. This, of course, was prior to the disappearance of theDo-me.

It was first realized by Mr Blade that something most serious had happened to theDo-me when Constable Telfer entered his office at four o’clock in the afternoon following that night of vigil conducted by the two Spinks women. Constable Telfer, big and tough and red of face, accepted the chair offered by the club secretary who was shorter in stature, pink-complexioned and quick in movement.

“I don’t like thisDo-me business,” was Telfer’s announcement.

“It will probably be cleared up about sundown when theDo-me comes home with the other launches,” Blade said. “Spinks is a good boatman, a good seaman, and a good fisherman. He wouldn’t take risks with an angler aboard theDo-me. Likely enough, he’ll report that owing to trouble of some kind theDo-me had to spend the night in some cover or other.”