n see the force of it, and it is my opinion that the savage
way is, after all, the most reasonable."

"If it is not the most reasonable," answered the Professor, "it is
certainly the most logical. But we are getting away from our subject. I
understand from what John says that within the next week we shall be
able to launch the vessel!"

"Yes," answered Harry. "Everything is now so far ahead that in two weeks
more we can be ready to sail."

"That is well. I hear there is considerable rivalry among the men to go
with you?"

"But aren't you going with us?" asked George in a voice of alarm.

"No; my place is here. I have no desire to go back. I have induced John,
much against his will, I know, to go with you, but I cannot leave my
people here. I will welcome you only the more gladly when you return."

Harry was almost in tears, as he said: "But we wanted you to go back
with us so we could take you to our homes and let our people see you.
They would be so happy to see you and to hear you talk."

"Thank you so much for the kind invitation. Sometime in the future, when
everything is properly settled here, and I can see my way clear, I will
consider it an honor to visit your homes, and enjoy the friendship of
your dear ones; but not now."

The door opened quietly, and Angel stepped in, Angel being the
Orang-outang to which we have alluded. He was now nearly as tall as
George. He gravely shambled over to the Professor, and placed an
envelope in his hand.

Angel was the most wonderful character in that community. He was the pet
and the playmate of all the children. No one dared to harm him or offer
an insult. Such a thing would have caused an insurrection in that town.

While he could not speak, he could understand practically everything
that was told him. Daily he performed many extraordinary tasks, thanks
to the training and care that George had bestowed upon him from the day
he had become a captive.

The Professor opened the envelope, and adjusted his glasses. As he read
his eyes opened wider and wider, while John and the boys drew closer.
While reading one of the sheets the Professor was slowly unfolding a
scrap of dark colored material, smaller than the sheet he was reading.

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"The letter is from Blakely," he said as he passed the papers to John.
"And what do you think it is about?"

All eagerly peered at the letter and then at the brown missive, whatever
it was.

"Read it aloud,