The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1915-11-09
FOURTH INSTALLMENT
THE BATTERED PARCHMENT
CHAPTER XVII
The Return of Inez Castro.


Out Of that holocaust-the useless
confagration that destroyed the old
Hardin cottage at Seaport-Annette
saved something. She saved the links
that bound the present to the past
the identifying objects that made her
one with the little child who had been
saved years before from the ruin of
st. Pierre.
whatever they mean" she told her
foster mother, they'll help me find my
father; they'll help me find Lost Isle.
And | have a strange presentiment
that I'll find him at Lost Isle and not
before"
They were seated, these two, in
their temporary place of abode.
who rescued me that night?' she
queried. How did 1 get out of the
house at all; who did that?"
Her foster mother shook her head.
Nobody knows, Annette" she said.
She lit a small alcohol lamp under
meath tiny tea kettle. Watch it,
Annette" she said, its so small it
may boil over
Boil over it did later, and with pc
culiar consequences. Mrs. Hardin
measured out quantity of Ceylon tea,
and then held out her hand.
Let me see the map of Lost Isle
again, Annette" she said. 1T seems
a shame we can make nothing of it."
1t was strange, for at first glance the
map seemed quite worth while. 1t
was traced upon an ancient piece of
parchment, old and yellow. At the
top was this inscription:
LOST ISLE OF CINNABAR."
"Cinnabar," repeated Mrs. Hardin.
Seems to me I've heard Of such an
island"
Annette shook her head. 1--WE looked
it up. Cinnabar is not place, it's
nothing but an ore"
The older woman continued her
scrutiny. Here's the mine marked
on the island with cross-what kind
of a mine-what's cinnabar?'
Quicksilver ore, returned the girl.
1T must be quicksilver mine"
Nothing else upon it, except the
words Stone CASTLE nothing else"
The girl sprang to her side. EYES,"
said the girl, these two other words
below"
She placed her finger upon them.
They were two small words near the
lower left-hand corner of the map:
Latitude.
Longitude.
Yes" went on Mrs. Hardin, "but
what latitude and what longitude?"
Annette smiled. That's the point,
it doesn't say. That's what I've got
to find out, but I'll find out, never
fear"
Mrs. Hardin lit lamp, placed the
map fatty upon the table, and exam
1ned every nook and corner of it.
Well" she said at length, i've
secured the map and l can't make
head nor tail of it, so we'll have some
tea"
She placed her hand upon the han
die of the little tea pot She drew
it away suddenly, for it was unusually
hot. Her hasty movement dislodged
it from it's moorings and the boiling
water spouted out over the table.
Most of the boiling water spouted on
the map. Mrs. Hardin snatched the
map away and wiped it with her ker-
chief. Then she handed the map to
Annette. Get it out of my sight be-
fore | scour the whole thing off the
face of the EARTH" she said Then
she stopped. Annette" she went on,
sharply, what's the matter?"
Annette was pointing to the map.
Look! looki" she cried.
Well might she exclaim. for there,
upon the yellow surface of the parch-
ment where only half a dozen words
had appeared before, there now ap-
peared multitude.
Latitude Is degrees, 80 minutes
north; longitude 123 degrees, 40 min
utes west. Granted to Ilington, Span
ish-American explorer, for distin-
guished service by Joseph Bonaparte,
king OF Spain, in the year 1909; the
original grant being in possession Of
the fathers of the Santa Maria mis-
sion in Lower California, to be sur
rendered to the heirs of Ilington upon
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