the flood, and only had time to write a hasty message and fling it, stopped up in a bottle, into the river. Here's a long telegram from the New York office. I'll condense what it says."
"Then it's really news from them—from Birdie Lee and the others?" asked Blake.
"It surely is," answered the manager. "What happened after they went to the island to make moving pictures isn't stated. But a few days ago this telegram came to the New York office."
He then read:
"We are being carried down the river on part of a house that was washed away in the sudden flood. We are all together, but suffering very much. The waters rose very suddenly. Cannot tell where we will land. I am writing this and putting it in a bottle, which I will throw into the flood. Someone may pick it up and transmit it to you. Come to us if you can!"
For a moment the boys were silent, and then Blake asked:
"How did the message get to New York?"
"I had to make inquiries to find that out," replied Mr. Ringold. "It seems that the bottle was washed ashore and picked up by a colored man. He took it to his employer, who read the
