CHAPTER IX.
UP LONG ISLAND SOUND.
The loss of the letter worried me even more than the loss of the money. In the exciting events that had transpired since I had received it I had forgotten the writer's name and his address. I remembered the name was something like Noddington, and that the address was a number in Old Fellows Road, but that was all.
This was deeply to be regretted, for I had expected to put myself into immediate communication with my father's friend, having any reply addressed to the post-office of the place I might be then stopping at.
But now this scheme could not be carried out. To send a letter haphazard would probably do no good.
I was so worked up over my discovery that I left the forecastle without taking the trouble to don the clothing Lowell had pointed out to me. I looked around the deck, and seeing the boatswain at the bow, hastened towards him.
