“This is a great job we have been thrown into, isn’t it, Jack?” demanded Fred at last.
“Yes, I think it is,” acknowledged John. “That letter of yours seems to make it worse, though. For the life of me I cannot understand how it came to Western Duck Island.”
“Maybe that man dropped it,” suggested Fred.
“Do you mean the smuggler?”
“I guess that’s what he is all right. I don’t know what his name is yet, but I mean the man that has a house over there on Cockburn Island.”
“That’s the man I mean,” said John. “I think he’s a smuggler. He may be, but the thing that puzzles me most is how he got your letter, if he was the one that dropped it over here on Western Duck Island.”
“Yes, that’s hard to explain,” assented Fred, “but I guess if we knew more about it we wouldn’t find it quite so hard.”
“What do you mean? Do you think that man wrote the letter?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, then what do you mean?”