added the stock-clerk to Richard.

"I think not; that is, if we can find Doc Linyard. His place is no doubt shut up and he may be away."

A moment later Richard, accompanied by Pep, went down into the court and made their way to the street beyond. The urchin was all eager expectation, and if it had not been for Richard, for whom it was hard work to keep up as it was, he would have run the entire way.

In a few minutes they were down on the Bowery, and pa.s.sing Park Row, the only lively spot in lower New York on Sunday, they crossed Fulton Street and so on down to West.

As Richard had antic.i.p.ated, the Watch Below was closed. Doc Linyard did not keep his place open on Sunday, excepting for an hour or two early in the morning.

"I'll have to see if I can knock him up," he said to Pep.

And raising his foot he kicked several times on the lower portion of the door.

"Something like the first night, when I got lost," he thought to himself. "What changes have occurred since then!"

Richard repeated his kicking, and presently there were sounds of footsteps within, the turning of a key in the lock, and then the door opened cautiously, revealing Mrs. Linyard.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed. "Come in! I was afraid it might be some drunken man; there's so many here of a Sunday, trying to get in."

"Aunt Betty, don't you know me!" piped up Pep's voice, all in a tremble.

Mrs. Linyard turned and surveyed the street urchin eagerly.

"Mercy me! if it hain't Tom's boy!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Where in the world did you come from?"

"Mr. Dare brought me," replied Pep.

Mrs. Linyard caught him up in her arms.

"Who'd a believed it!" she cried. "Mr. Dare a doing of it. Why, you're as dirty as a pig! Where's your dad and your marm and sister Mary?"

"Dad's sick. We just left him. Marm and Mary are dead. Mr. Dare says you've got money for dad. I'm so glad, 'cause he's sick."

"Mother and Mary dead!" The sad news brought the tears to the woman's eyes. "Poor dear! Poor Tom!"

"Mr. Clover is very sick," said Richard. "He has no one to care for him but Pep. Is Mr. Linyard at home?"

"Yes; taking his nap on the sofa. I'll call him--or no, come up. My, what a surprise 'twill be for him! He'd about given up."

Taking Pep by the hand Mrs. Linyard led the way up to her "best room,"

where her husband lay sound asleep on a lounge.

"Get up, Doc!" she cried, shaking him vigorously. "Get up! Here's your nevvy; and Mr. Dare has found Tom! Just think of it--he's found Tom!

Wake up, Doc! Was ever there such a man! To keep on sleeping with such good news to hear!"

CHAPTER XXVI.

A SCENE IN THE STOCK-ROOM.

But Doc Linyard did not sleep for any great length of time after his good wife began to shake him. A moment later he sprang up, rubbing his eyes.

"Ship ahoy!" he cried heartily. "What's up, what's the trouble?" Then catching sight of Richard and Pep: "h.e.l.lo, visitors! How are you, Dare?"

"Here's Tom's son," repeated Mrs. Linyard. "Mr. Dare has found Tom."

"_What!_" The old sailor looked at the street urchin. "Bless my heart if it _hain't_ Tom's son! Well, well, Dare; this is better than getting them letters back." And he took hold of Pep with both hands.

Richard had it on his tongue's end to say that Pep was the one who had taken the letters in the first place, but a second thought made him keep silent. It would do no good to tell, and he would be willing to vouch for the boy's honesty in the future.

Richard's story, as well as Pep's, was soon told, and then Doc Linyard and his wife prepared to accompany the two back to Frying Pan Court.

"I'm glad I've got a little money saved," said the old sailor to Richard, as they hurried across town. "Poor Tom shan't want for anything while there's a shot left in the locker. It's funny he wouldn't let us know his condition."

"He was allers sensitive," put in Mrs. Linyard, "and I suppose coming down made him more so."

It was not long before the little party reached the dingy garret room where the sufferer lay. Frank received them with a warning for silence.

He said he had had quite a turn with the sick man, but now Mr. Clover had dropped back exhausted and was dozing.

Mrs. Linyard wept bitterly as she knelt beside the form of her sick brother. Yet she was thankful that he had been found, and her grat.i.tude to Richard was outspoken and genuine.

It was decided that the sick man should be at once removed to one of the private wards of a neighboring hospital, where Mrs. Linyard might see him daily; and then have him taken to her own home as soon as it was deemed safe to do so.

Frank, who was somewhat acquainted with the methods of procedure, accompanied the old sailor to the inst.i.tution and helped him to make the necessary arrangements.

Half an hour later an ambulance drove into Frying Pan Court. Tom Clover was removed with the greatest of care, the garret room was locked up, and Pep, like one in a dream, went off with his newly-found uncle.

It was nearly sundown when the two boys reached the Ma.s.sanets' again.

"How long you've been!" exclaimed Mattie, who let them in.

"And we've had quite an adventure," replied her brother.

"Ees zat so?" put in Mrs. Ma.s.sanet. "You must tell ett, Francois."

"I will, mother," replied Frank. "But Richard will have to help; it's really his story."

"Then both go ahead," cried Mattie. "Only _do_ go ahead. I am dying to hear!"

Of course Mrs. Ma.s.sanet as well as Mattie was highly interested in the boys' story, and both were deeply touched at the account of Frying Pan Court and the scene in the little garret room.

"I want to know little Pep," said Mattie. "He is too bright a chap to run the streets." "I guess Doc Lanyard won't let him do that any more,"

returned Richard. "Especially if he gets that money he's expecting from England."

"That sailor didn't lose anything by being kind to you," remarked Frank. "I declare you deserve a reward."