"You'd better let it go," said the cabin boy, with a grave shake of his head. "You'll only get yourself into trouble, and it won't do a bit of good."
Phil Jones's advice was good, and I would have saved myself considerable trouble by following it.
But I was angry, and, as a consequence, did not stop to count the cost.
I searched my other pockets, and soon learned that everything I had had about my person was gone, including the letter from England. No doubt it was through this letter that Captain Hannock had found out my name.
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.