When they reached that city, Mr. Berkeley made diligent inquiries in regard to the arrival of three shipwrecked boys, but he heard that only two steamers had come in within a week, and that neither of these had fallen in with a disabled tug-boat.
When even his stout heart was beginning to despair, and poor Helen looked as if she had been ill for a month, there came a telegram from Boontown. It was from Mr. Welford, a banker of that place, and a friend of Mr. Berkeley’s, to whom the telegram had been addressed which the boys had forwarded by the sportsman they had met on the Indian River.
Mr. Welford lived in the town, and a telegram sent to him would be immediately delivered, and the boys knew he would lose no time in notifying their families.
The telegram now received from Mr. Welford informed Mr. Godfrey Berkeley that the boys were on the Indian River, Florida, and were coming North as fast as possible.
This news made the world seem like a different place to Phil’s uncle and Chap’s sister. This was something real and tangible.
“It seems as if we knew just where the boys were,” cried Helen.
“Yes,” said Mr. Godfrey, laughing, “we might take the map, and almost point out the exact spot where they ought to be by this time; but, most probably, we would make a mistake, and we won’t do it. It is enough to know that they are in Florida, and we shall probably see them soon.”
“Shall we wait here for them?” said Helen.
“I have not made up my mind about that,” replied Mr. Berkeley.
But before he made up his mind a telegram came from Mrs. Webster, which read thus: