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214 "This was a strange way to live," I began, when Dan cut me short.

"We must not lose time here, Oliver. Let us get that letter and be going."

We hunted in a corner of the hut and began to dig down at a spot where it looked as if the soil had been recently disturbed.

"That's the box," said Matt Gory, as we heard a metallic click, and soon the box was brought to light—a square affair, painted black.

It was unlocked, and, opening it, we found that it contained nothing but a long, thick envelope, tightly sealed, and addressed to Watterson Brown, mate, on board the schooner Dart. Below were added the words:

"From his father, with the hope that the fortune may prove a blessing."

"A fortune for Watt Brown," mused Dan. "Well, he deserves it, for he's a good fellow."

"If only he isn't dead. In that case I won't know what to do with the letter," I answered, as I tucked the precious document away in my pocket. Little did I dream of all of the adventures into which that letter was to one day lead me.