"I was told afterwards that the first quarterdeck boat had been lost, leaving no trace behind, but the second had reached land with Victor and Christian Dreyel as sole survivors. The papers did not get hold of the facts, and only one, a San Francisco paper, had a short notice to the effect that 'King Solomon' had gone down with all hands on board. That notice was the cause of my wife's death. I was..."

Here Wallion turned a few leaves and remarked:

"We are already acquainted with William's illness and his fifteen years of crazy wandering; we will skip that."

They continued with the reading.

"The finding of my daughter was a turning-point for me; I began to make plans for the recovery of the gold which had lain so long at the bottom of the sea, but that required funds. I put myself in communication with the next of kin of the men who had perished on the 'King Solomon,' and took steps to find their heirs. Then an unexpected thing happened. I came across Toroni in the street one day, under circumstances which clearly showed that he was spying upon me, and it was borne in upon me that some one wanted to steal the papers giving particulars of the place where the wreck lay. I was terribly worried. Partly to pass away the time I had carved wooden figures to represent myself and my eleven companions in misfortune, and had numbered them according to the accompanying list. I destroyed the notes referring to 'King Solomon' after having engraved numbers denoting longitude and latitude on the feet of those dolls which bore even numbers—the latitude in degrees, minutes and seconds on dolls numbered 2, 4, and 6, and the longitude on those numbered 8, 10, and 12. As an additional measure of precaution I sent the two dolls which gave the seconds to the two Dreyel cousins. It was a well-conceived plan; for two days later—I don't know how—the rest of the dolls were stolen. This discovery aggravated my illness, and I felt that I did, indeed, require medical advice.

"But I fell from the frying-pan into the fire, and am now virtually a prisoner in Doctor Corman's villa. Edward Dixon is hoodwinking Elaine, and I cannot do anything to save myself. I am writing this in hopes that it may bring this diabolical plot to the notice of the authorities. Toroni is the prime mover in it; all these years, thoughts of the six millions must have been seething in his brain. I got to know that in 1904 he had made a secret attempt to get up the gold at Hurricane Island by himself. That was foolish; divers and modern appliances are required for such a purpose. Moreover, it is easier to find 'a needle in a bottle of hay' than to find a wreck ten fathoms below the surface, in a channel half a Swedish mile in length and over two miles in breadth. I cannot say whether he was preparing for a bolder stroke; at any rate, soon after, a decided obstacle came in the way.

"In 1913 a man, of the name of Compton, reported that he had discovered rich copper mines in the Black Valley on Hurricane Island; a company was formed, hundreds of workmen were sent out and operations on a large scale begun. The legend of the copper mine was exploded in 1917, and the islands were deserted. Now was Toroni's chance, he looked about for a capitalist and found ... Edward Attiswood Dixon, who appeared to make large deals and whose means were so ample that he no longer engaged in any regular business. He gladly agreed to Toroni's proposal; and for a ridiculously small sum acquired Hurricane Island and Fir Island, with the buildings left there by the former copper mine company. Officially he gave out that he meant to erect a repairing station for vessels trading between Alaska and the States; he did, in fact, build a breakwater with all modern improvements for sheltering ships, but that was only a blind to cover his search for the wreck of 'King Solomon,' which was begun without delay. The search came to nothing; it only proved that my notes were indispensible. Then they got at Elaine, and through her I was enticed to leave my secluded quarters. Her engagement in Dixon's office and my incarceration at Doctor Corman's were only small items in their plans, but I was not going to give away the secret of 'King Solomon,' if I could help it! I am hoping to escape, and as it may be necessary to get the two dolls back from the Dreyel cousins. I shall try to persuade Elaine to help me. If these papers should fall into the hands of honest people, I hope they will straightway send them to Headquarters.

"Seattle, July the third, 1918,

"William Robertson."

"LIST OF THE OWNERS OF THE GOLD."