They could do nothing but wait. It would be some time before Mack and Chuck reached the beach off the schooner; and Dory went below to see the prisoners, taking care not to show his head above the bulwarks. The two captives in the steerage were still asleep; it was a beer-slumber, though they were doubtless very tired; and they were like a pair of stone posts, so far as their appearance was concerned. Persons who were not boozy could hardly have slept so soundly in the uncomfortable positions in which they were confined. As Dory had nothing else to do, he took a more careful survey of the cabin of the La Motte. One of the bunks in the steerage appeared to have been occupied, while the other five beds had not been disturbed. In the cabin were several valises and travelling-bags. One of the former bore the initials of the chief of the robbers. As it was not locked, he opened it. If there was any plunder on board, it had not been put into this valise, for it appeared to contain nothing but wearing-apparel. In the pocket he found a letter, addressed to "M. A. Spickles, Esq., Plattsburg, N.Y." It was postmarked at New-York City. Dory felt that it was his duty, in connection with the enterprise in which he was engaged, to obtain all the information in his power; and he did not scruple to read the epistle, as he would not have done under ordinary circumstances. The letter contained a great deal of slang, a good portion of which the reader could not understand. The writer, who signed himself "Fred Ripples," promised to be at Ticonderoga on Friday night, and the La Motte must take him and his party on board at that point. If the schooner was not there at that time, the party would take the first train for Westport, and would be there early Saturday morning. With the letter in his hand, Dory went on deck, and joined the machinist under the bulwarks. Mr. Jepson read the document, and looked at Dory, though its contents did not appear to affect the present situation. "These fellows are the other members of that club. They must be at Westport by this time," said the instructor. "Probably they are, for a train comes along very early in the morning," replied Dory. "But Mr. Fred Ripples had nothing to do with the robberies at Plattsburg, or the one at Beech Hill; so that we have no particular business with him." "Then, we had better drop him; for the two fellows who did have a hand in them are within a short distance of the tender," added the machinist in a lower tone.