"I know him—Watt Brown. He was second mate of the Dart," I ejaculated.
"So you know Watt?" The old man's eyes brightened for an instant. "So much the better. I have something for my son. If I die will you deliver it?"
"I will—if I can."
"We will do our best," added Dan, and Matt Gory nodded.
"Sure, an' we were all on the Dart wid yer son," added the Irishman.
"I cannot leave Watt much money; but I have a precious letter for him. That letter must not be lost. Will you defend it while it is in your keeping?"
"Yes," I answered. "But hadn't you better acquaint me with its contents, in case it is lost?"
"It must not be lost. It is—is in the tin box buried in yonder corner. Give it to Watt with my blessing. Tell him—tell him—water!"
"He is dying!" whispered Dan, and ran for water, while I raised the elderly individual up. I wanted to tell him how Watt was situated, but it was too late. A strange rattle sounded in his throat, and before my chum could place the cup of water to his lips, his soul had fled.
"Sure an' he is gone!" whispered Matt Gory, the first to break the silence. "God rist him!"
