“That’s how I happened to remember, and how I knew how to open your box,” he went on. “As soon as I had it in my hands it seemed to me as if I had seen it before. But it was because your brother told me about it, and told me just how to open it.”
The Curlytops were listening to all this, and so were Tom and Lola and all the others.
“Oh, can you tell me where my brother is now?” eagerly asked Mrs. Ransom.
“Well, I can tell you where I saw him last—in the New York Hospital,” answered Uncle Ben. “It was there he told me about the queer box he said he had given to his sister. But he said he had not heard from her for a good many years, and he thought she was dead.”
“And I thought he was dead!” cried the storekeeper. “And instead we’re both alive—at least, I hope John is,” she murmured softly.
“Well, he was getting well and strong when he left the hospital,” said Uncle Ben. “Perhaps if you write there, they can tell you on what ship he sailed. I’m sure it’s the same John Dowd who was your brother, for surely there wouldn’t be two of the same name who had given their sisters queer boxes with secret drawers.”
“Did he look anything like that?” asked Mrs. Ransom, as she held out the photograph which had been in the secret drawer of the queer box.
“He didn’t look like that when I saw him in the hospital,” answered Uncle Ben. “But of course that picture was taken a good many years ago.”
“Yes, it was,” said Mrs. Ransom. “It’s been a good while since John gave me the queer box and sailed away. I supposed he was shipwrecked between that time and the present.”
“Yes, he was shipwrecked, he told me,” replied Uncle Ben. “He said he wished he could find his sister, but as he did not tell me your name, of course I did not know you were she.”