"I came by the early train," he said; "it was no good staying in town. There was nothing to be done. I guess I've been wandering about these fields for some time." He lifted his hat from his brow with a weary air as he spoke in a voice that was dull and faint.
"Now do tell me what ails you, Mr. Dicks," said my aunt in her most soothing manner; "for that something is wrong I can plainly see."
"Oh, I ail nothing," he said, with a pathetic attempt to recall his usual jaunty air; "it is only that I am a ruined man!"
"Mr. Dicks," exclaimed Aunt Patty, "what can you mean?"
"Just that—I am a ruined man," he repeated in biting accents. "Things have been going wrong in Wall Street for some time. There was bad news yesterday. I had information this morning which made me profoundly uneasy. I went up to town only to find my worst fears confirmed. There is almost a panic on the Stock Exchange, and for me this crash spells ruin."
"Are you sure?" asked Aunt Patty tremulously. "It may not be so bad as you think. There is room for hope."
"As sure as I stand here, madam, I know that I have lost all," was his reply. "Josiah Dicks must begin the world again, and that is not a cheering prospect when one is sixty years of age."
"Indeed, it is not," said Aunt Patty.
Then we stood silent for some moments, thinking many things. It is not easy to offer consolation for such a catastrophe, and my aunt was too wise to attempt it. Mr. Dicks broke the silence, speaking in high dry tones:
"You need not fear, madam, that you will be a loser through my misfortune. I have money enough in hand to pay all my debts and to take me and my daughter back to America."