"Word from Mr. Martin. His son is dead, and we are to close the store until further notice."

Here was more sad news. Phil, who had known young Mr. Martin well, and liked him, felt it the most.

"It will break old Mr. Martin all up," he said sadly. "He thought a heap of his son. The two were alone in the world."

"I can get away easily enough now," said Richard, with a sorry little laugh. "I won't hurry back as soon as I intended. You must write me if anything turns up."

In less than an hour the store was closed up, a death notice pasted on the door, and then Frank accompanied Richard down to the ferry.

On the corner of Liberty Street they met Pep, who started back in surprise.

"I was just comin' up to see you!" he exclaimed to Richard. "My uncle wants you to come right down!"

"Wants me to come down?" queried Richard. "What for?"

"Don't know exactly. Dad's there, and they both want to see you. You'd better go right away; but maybe you _was_ going," added Pep suddenly.

"No, I wasn't. I was going to take a train home," replied Richard.

"Perhaps it's nothing in particular."

He had an hour before train time, and, accompanied by Frank, walked down to the Watch Below.

Doc Linyard greeted him cordially. He was surprised to see Richard dressed up, and grieved to learn of the cause.

"Well, I'm glad as how _I_ ain't got no bad news to tell you," said the old sailor with a grin. "Tom Clover is upstairs, in his right mind, and wants to see you."

"What about?"

"Never mind, just go up," replied Doc.

On a comfortable bed, in an upper chamber, lay Tom Clover. Good care and nursing had done wonders for the man, and when Richard looked at him he could hardly realize that this was the miserable wretch he had visited in the garret at Frying Pan Court.

"Here's Mr. Dare come to see you," said Doc Linyard, by way of an introduction.

Tom Clover grasped Richard's hand tightly.

"Betty and Doc have told me all about you," he said in a somewhat feeble voice. "I thank you more than I can put in words. Sit down; I want to talk to you."

"I would like to, Mr. Clover, but I've got to catch a train for home in three quarters of an hour," replied Richard. "I'll call as soon as I get back."

"Just stay a little while," urged Doc Linyard. "Tom's got something to say to you."

"Doc tells me your father was a soldier in the late war?" went on Tom Clover.

"Yes, sir."

"Did he once live in Brooklyn?"

"Yes, sir. But--" and Richard paused, while his heart beat rapidly.

"And was his first name John?"

"Yes, sir--John Cartwell Dare. But why do you ask, Mr. Clover? Is it possible that you knew him?"

Tom Clover raised himself up to a sitting position.

"Know him?" he cried. "We were bosom companions for eighteen months!

Why, I caught him in my arms the day he was shot!"

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

THE FIRM OF Ma.s.sANET AND DARE.

Tom Clover's unexpected statement was a revelation to Richard, and subsequent questioning convinced the boy that all that Doc Linyard's brother-in-law had said concerning the acquaintance with his father was perfectly true.

It was a fact that Clover had been drafted in Boston, but during the second year of his service his time had expired, and then he had enlisted in a Brooklyn regiment, and become a member of the same company to which Mr. Dare belonged.

"It seems too good to be true," cried Richard finally. "Perhaps Doc has already told you of the pension we are trying to get."

"Yes, and I can witness the papers easily enough, and get several others to, too, if it's necessary. Have you got them here in the city?"

"No; they are home. But I can soon get them, and either bring them or send them on."

This was agreed to, and it was with a much lighter heart that Richard, a quarter of an hour later, bade Frank good-by at the ferry.

"Send the papers to me," said Frank at parting. "I haven't anything to do at present, and will attend to the affair with pleasure."

"Thank you, Frank, I will," was Richard's reply.

The journey to Mossvale was an uneventful one. When Richard reached the Wood cottage all the family ran out to meet him, and in a second his mother's arms were about his neck.

"I'm so glad you have come, Richard!" she cried. "We need you sadly."

Presently he was seated in the doorway, with little Madge on his knee, and the others gathered around, and there he listened to all they had to tell.

The insurance papers had been found, but Mrs. Dare was undecided whether to rebuild or accept the cash.

"We could not get back such a nice home as we had for nine hundred dollars," she said. "And, besides, Sandy Stone has offered me two hundred dollars for the land, and that's a good price, Mr. Wood says."

"Did you save father's pension papers?"

"Yes. But why do you ask?" inquired Mrs. Dare, her curiosity aroused.

For reply Richard told the little party all about his strange meeting with Tom Clover.