In the solitude of his cell he had ample opportunity to plan his revenge upon the boy, and we must leave him to brood over his future plans while we return to Jersey City. It was afternoon when Tommy reached the house.
His father had left the store early, and was with Mrs. Smithers in the parlor, the latter being hysterical.
"What's the matter with you?" he heard his father say. "I ask for the money in the bureau and all you do is to cry."
Tommy entered the room, and his mother no sooner saw him than she caught him in her arms, and kissed and hugged him as if she had never expected to see him again.
"Oh! my dear, dear boy," she exclaimed, "Heaven be thanked you are restored to me."
"I ran away from the man, mother, when the police took him," said Tommy.
"Hush!" she cried, placing her fingers on her lip, warningly.
Mr. Smithers was interested. He saw that something of an unusual nature had occurred during his absence, and he was determined to find out what it was.
"What man?" he inquired.
"My father," replied Tommy, innocently. "He wasn't dead, and turned up to-day."