On board the Sally Corwith,
Mr. John Alden Smith-Jones,
Boston, Mass.
Dear Sir: Just reached port and hasten to forward letter your son gave me for his mother. He wouldn't comé with us. We found him on Island, Lat. 10° —” South, Long. 150° —” West. He seemed in good health and able to look out for himself. Didn’t want anything, he said, except a razor, so we gave him that and one of the men gave him a plug of chewing tobacco. Urged him to come, but he wouldn’t. The enclosed letter will doubtless tell you all about him.
Yours truly,
Henry Dobbs, Master.
“Ten south, a hundred and fifty west,” mused Captain Burlinghame. “That’s the same island we searched. Where could he have been!”
Mrs. Smith-Jones had opened the letter addressed to her, and was reading it breathlessly.
My dear Mother: I feel rather selfish in remaining and possibly causing you further anxiety, but I have certain duties to perform to several of the inhabitants which I feel obligated to fulfill before I depart.
