“By jove, perhaps a letter from some shipwrecked sailors,” exclaimed Mr. Jukes.
“Such messages are often frauds, sir,” observed the captain. “If it should prove to be such, I’d be wary about replying to it.”
“Well, let’s have a look at it, whatever it is,” said Mr. Jukes. “This is really interesting.”
They all crowded about, even the Kanakas, as the captain smashed the bottle on the rail. A rolled-up paper dropped on the deck. Jack, at whose feet it had fallen, picked it up. He opened it and saw that it was scribbled on with pencil.
“It seems ——,” he began, when a sudden exclamation from Mr. Jukes checked his further utterance.
“Let me look at that paper,” commanded the millionaire, who, they now noticed, was breathing quickly and whose eyes shone with feverish excitement.
Jack handed it over, while they all regarded the millionaire’s agitation curiously. With hands that shook, the financier scanned the letter and then made an electrifying announcement in a voice that was tense and self-controlled, but yet betrayed the excitement under which he labored as he spoke.
“Gentlemen, the age of miracles has not passed,” he said. “When Ready first opened the paper, I thought I recognized a peculiar handwriting. I was not wrong. This message was written by my brother!”