"Dear Tommy," it began. "I take my pen in and to inform you that I'm
stayin here and cant get away for the reason that I lorst my cloes at
cribage larst night, also my money, and everything beside. Dont speek to
a living sole about it as the mate wants my birth, but pack up sum cloes
and bring them to me without saying nuthing to noboddy. The mates cloths
will do becos I havent got enny other soot, dont tell 'im. You needen't
trouble about soks as I've got them left. My bed is so bad I must now
conclude. Your affecshunate uncle and captin Joe Bross. P.S. Dont let
the mate see you come, or else he wont let you go."
"Two hours more," sighed Tommy, as he put the letter back in his pocket.
"How can I get any clothes when they're all locked up? And aunt said I
was to look after 'im and see he didn't get into no mischief."
He sat thinking deeply, and then, as the crew of the Sarah Jane stepped
ashore to take advantage of a glass offered by the mate, he crept down
to the cabin again for another desperate look round. The only articles
of clothing visible belonged to Mrs. Bross, who up to this trip had been
sailing in the schooner to look after its master. At these he gazed
hard.
"I'll take 'em and try an' swop 'em for some men's clothes," said he
suddenly, snatching the garments from the pegs.
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