The next day was passed in closing up letters for the mail, viewing the destruction caused by the earthquake, and making preparations for leaving Manilla. The Doctor found, on visiting his banker's, that there was a steamer ready to start for Singapore on the following morning, and that she had accommodations for a few passengers. As she would suit their purposes exactly, he engaged places for the party, and in due time they were at sea with the prow of their vessel directed toward the Straits of Malacca.
ON THE WAY TO SINGAPORE.
The anchor was dropped in the harbor of Singapore, and the steamer was quickly surrounded with the same swarm of boatmen that greeted our friends at the time of their first arrival. Some of the sharp-eyed fellows recognized Doctor Bronson and the youths, and claimed them as old acquaintances; the result was that only a few minutes were required for the negotiations that had taken so long on their first visit, and before the anchor had been down half an hour the trio were at the hotel with their baggage, and safely quartered in their rooms.[3]
"We are just in time," said the Doctor, "to catch the steamer that leaves here every week for Penang, Rangoon, and Calcutta. We will go in her as far as Rangoon, and have a peep at Burmah, and when we have done with that strange country we can go somewhere else."
The boys were delighted with the idea of going to Burmah, and declared themselves ready to leave on the instant; but they moderated their enthusiasm on learning that the steamer would not start till noon of the next day. A garri was called, and our friends drove to the banker's and the post-office, and their journey was rewarded with a fine parcel of letters and papers from home. They also called at the United States Consulate, and found that two or three letters had been addressed to them in care of the consul, and were safely kept by that gentleman, pending their return.
The news from home was entirely satisfactory. The families of Frank and Fred were greatly interested in the letters which the youths had sent describing their journey, and Miss Effie informed them that some of the letters had been given to the editor of their favorite newspaper, and so had found their way into print. "And the editor says," she added, "that they are good enough to make a book of, and when you get home you shall have one printed."
"What! we make a book!" exclaimed Fred, as Frank read the concluding sentence of Miss Effie's letter; "we could never do it in the world!"
"Why not?" Frank inquired. Evidently he thought the thing possible, perhaps for the reason that his sweetheart so regarded it.