"I shall enjoy it at any rate," said Jed. "Where shall we stay?"
"I generally go to the Newport. It is one of the smaller hotels, but its location is excellent, being very near the water. Besides, I am expecting my aunt, Mrs. Frost, to arrive in a few days. She always goes to the Newport, and has the same room every year. There is the hotel yonder."
Mr. Roper pointed out a pleasant but unpretentious hostelry on the left of the pier.
"The large house farther up the hill is Rodick's," he said. "Rodick is an old name at Mount Desert, and the island just across from the wharf, separated by a bar, was once called Rodick's island."
The yacht was anchored, and Jed and Mr. Roper were rowed to shore. They secured rooms at the Newport, and walked up the hill.
As they passed the post-office Schuyler Roper said, "I will see if there are any letters awaiting me. There may be one from my aunt."
Jed waited at the door. Mr. Roper came out, holding a letter which he regarded with some curiosity.
"Here is a letter in an unknown hand, post-marked Scranton," he said. "I don't know any person living there."
"I do," said Jed. "It was my old home."