“There’s an old bottle about opposite us,” Stephen yelled; “heave ahead and bring it here; we want to see what it means.”
“The raft would be the best to get it,” Marmaduke murmured.
Ah! if he could have known that the plank bestridden by Charley was the foundation timber of their late raft!
“You see that our plot is working!” Stephen mumbled in the Sage’s ear. “He will believe it all!”
Charles directed his barge to the mysterious bottle, seized it, and then worked his way to his companions on the bank. While he unstrapped and huddled on his clothes the bottle was passed from one to another.
Marmaduke, who had hitherto taken only a languid interest in the matter, exclaimed feverishly, on seeing that the bottle held a paper, “Give it to me! It’s mine, because I saw it first!”
In a trice he had the paper out, and was endeavoring to make out its contents. As these have already been given, it would be only a wanton waste of time and foolscap for the reader to reperuse them with Marmaduke. It might afford a hard-hearted reader considerable amusement to hear his absurd interpretations, but it is both unwise and immoral to laugh at the mistakes and the ignorance of others. It is sufficient, therefore, to say that the great difference between Henry’s style and the style of teacher Meadows’ Method bewildered the young student.
Charles waited impatiently to read for him, while the rest moved down the river and took up their stand under the old tree in which Henry was ensconced.
Marmaduke and Charles soon followed, and presently the latter ventured to say, “Perhaps I could help you, Marmaduke.”