“Well eat after we have had the news,” said Tom.  “We’re dying to know all, as Sam says.”

“The news is rather perplexing, to tell the truth,” said Randolph Rover, as he led the way into the library of the spacious home.  “I hardly know what to make of it.”

“Who brought it?” questioned Dick.

“It came by mail —­ a bulky letter all the way from Cape Town, Africa.”

“From father?”

“No, from a Captain Townsend, who, it seems, commands the clipper ship Rosabel.  He sent me one letter inclosing another.  The first letter is from himself.”

“And is the second letter from father?” burst out Tom.

“Yes, my boy.”

“Oh, let us see it!” came in a shout from all three of the Rover boys.

“You had better read the captain’s communication first,” answered Randolph Rover.  “Then you will be more apt to understand the other.  Or shall I read it for the benefit of all?”

“Yes, yes, you read it, Uncle Randolph,” was the answer.

“The letter is dated at Cape Town, and was written a little over a month ago.  It is addressed to ’Randolph Rover, or to Richard, Thomas, or Samuel Rover, New York City,’ and is further marked ‘Highly Important-Do Not Lose or Destroy.’”

“And what is in it?” asked the impatient Tom.  “Do hurry and tell us, Uncle Randolph.”

And then his uncle read as follows: 

“To the Rover family, New York: 

I am a stranger to you, but I deem it my duty to write to you on account of something which occurred on the 12th day of April last, while my clipper ship Rosabel, bound from Boston, U. S. A., to Cape Town, Africa, was sailing along the coast of Congo but a few miles due west from the mouth of the Congo River.

“Our ship had been sent in by a heavy gale but the wind had gone down, and we were doing more drifting than sailing to the southward when the lookout espied a man on a small raft which was drifting toward, us.

“On coming closer, we discovered that the man was white and that he looked half starved.  We put out a boat and rescued the poor creature but he had suffered so much from spear wounds and starvation that, on being taken on board of our ship, he immediately relapsed into insensibility, and out of this we failed to arouse him.  He died at sundown, and we failed, even to learn him name or home address.

“On searching the dead man’s pockets we came across the enclosed letter, addressed to you, and much soiled from water.  As you will see, it is dated more than a year back and was evidently in the possession of the man who died for some time.  Probably he started out to deliver it, or to reach some point from which it could be mailed.

“I trust that the message becomes the means of rescuing the Anderson Rover mentioned in the letter, and I will be pleased to learn if this letter of mine is received.  The Rosabel sails from Cape Town to Brazil as soon as her cargo can be discharged and another taken on.