Untying the package of mail, the watchman looked through it, distributing such as there was for the crew, then mounted the bridge with the remainder, which he gave to the captain.
“Seems to be mostly for you, boys,” said the skipper, and he handed over to them a score or more of post cards and letters.
“But how in the world did any one at home know about this Marine Post Office?” exclaimed Ted, as he eagerly took the missives addressed to him.
“I suppose Dr. Blair told Momsy and the girls, and they passed the word along,” said his brother.
“Well, it certainly is a ‘splendid institution’,” confirmed the younger boy. And many were the exclamations of amusement and delight as they perused their letters and read the bits of advice and good wishes written on the post cards.
CHAPTER XI
UP THE SAINT MARY’S RIVER
As the Admiral passed from Lake St. Clair through the St. Clair flats, the boys beheld with interest and wonder the colony of cottages and hotels built on the very water’s edge of the American side, with the scores of launches scudding hither and thither, carrying merry vacationists on visits to friends or to fishing grounds. On the Canadian side, however, they could see nothing but a vast expanse of reeds and water-grass, splendid for duck shooting but otherwise useless.
“How do the people get here? Aren’t there any roads?” asked Ted, as he looked in vain for some means of connection with the mainland.
“To be sure,” replied the skipper, whose customary geniality had been restored by the receipt of a wireless message ordering him to set the unwelcome guards ashore at the Soo, as the Sault St. Claire is nicknamed.