"Did ye call me, sir?"
Roger knew him now. He hurried over to him.
"Oh, Jack—Jack Sparling! I have found you at last."
Sparling looked at him, at first only surprised, then with a sudden light in his eyes,—
"Well to be sure!" he said. "If it ain't the boy!"
Roger broke down utterly. The thin, worn face, with the queer grimace instead of a smile, the grey hair, but the grave grey eyes with the old affectionate look, and then the grasp of the big hand; but it was not quite such a grasp as in the days of old.
"What's the matter, boy? Don't be making a fool of yourself," growled Jack.
"I won't. Oh, Jack, I've had such a search for you."
And Roger quickly told him how he had heard from Avery about the accident, and then set out to find him.
