“‘We’ll skip right down to Juneau, and see if there are any letters there. It all depends,’ he replied.
“In a few days more we reached Dyea, where Hal secured some trustworthy men into whose charge he could commit the mining work. Then we took the boat and started for Juneau.
“After a rough voyage of more than ten days, we docked at the wretched little city, and went to the post-office for our mail.
“Three letters awaited me—but every one of them were from chums to whom I had sent cards from Seattle. My mail had been forwarded to me from Seattle to Juneau, but there was no word from my parents.
“As Hal and I stood reading our letters, the postmaster—a shrivelled-up, little old man, peered at me over the rim of his spectacles, and called out:
“‘Be you the one thet jist got some old letters from the East?’
“‘Yes, sir,’ I returned, going over to the counter.
“‘Waal, heah’s one thet cum a long time ago, an’ I meant to send it back, but somehow fergot it. I cum across it yistiddy, and made up my mind to do somethin’ with it sure, so heah ye aire.’
“With relief I recognized my father’s writing, but the letter was dated two months previous.
“I opened the letter and read it through with intense emotion. First, I learned that my Mother had died after a brief illness. Next, my Father had lost his fine saw-mill by fire. Third, my oldest sister had married, and the home was broken up, Father having gone to live with her in New York.