Fervently I prayed that such might be the fact, that my father might some day come back to me. The prayer brought a hope, and I walked along with a lighter tread after I had uttered it.
Presently I passed the spot where Ford and I had captured Carney. The remembrance of the occurrence brought to mind Mr. Norton’s valise and the letters that had been missing from it. In the rush of other events, this had slipped my mind; but now I determined to make a search for the documents.
I found the exact spot where Carney’s boat had been beached, and soon discovered his footprints in the soil near by.
I had hardly got thus far, when I saw something white on the ground just ahead. I rushed forward, and in a moment held in my hand the precious letters for which I was seeking.
They were three in number, and bound around with an elastic. Why Carney had thrown them away without looking in them, I did not know; but later on found out that he could not read.
I hastily opened one of the letters. It was short, and ran as follows:—
New York, June 6.
Dear Bixby,—
Will be on hand in Chicago as soon as I can arrange with Avery. He will meet us at Bayport when desired.
Martin Yates.