"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!"