The story was told with such simpleness that Dick felt bound to believe it, and consequently he saw no reason for blaming Oliver Mason, who was, in truth, on the verge of second childhood.
“I must look around and see if those scamps left anything behind,” said Dick. “You won’t object to that, will you?”
“No! no!” cried the old man. “Only please do not take any of my few belongings.”
“I’ll not take anything, sir, you can trust me absolutely,” answered Dick, readily.
He made a search of the rooms, and especially the apartments occupied by Mrs. Stanhope and her abductors. At first he found little of value, although he picked up a handkerchief that had Mrs. Stanhope’s initials embroidered in the corner.
“That is proof positive that she was here,” he thought grimly.
In one of the fireplaces he came across some half-burnt letters. He looked them over with care and caught the post-mark, Portland, Me. On one slip he read the following:
easy from Portla
the schooner Mary Del
as we arrive, I will have