PEP'S HOME.
Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. Richard was naturally an early riser, but the unaccustomed sounds in the streets awoke him at an even earlier hour than he usually arose, and when seven o'clock came, and the Massanets assembled for breakfast, they found that their boarder had had quite a delightful walk.
By ten o'clock the Massanets were all ready and bound for church.
When the congregation was dismissed, Richard and Frank hurried home ahead, wishing to see if Pep had come.
They found the street urchin waiting for them at the door. He was very pale and nearly out of breath.
"I was thinkin' you'd never come!" he gasped. "I run all de way, and went upstairs, but couldn't find nobody."
"What's the matter?" cried Richard. "Is your father worse?"
"Yes, indeed; a heap worse. I was thinkin' he was goin' to croak last night."
"I'll go right down with you."
"Shall I go, too?" put in Frank hesitatingly. "I'll go willingly if you want me."