As he started up the front walk he heard a noise. Around the corner of the house came his father, limping along with a crutch, while his mother was walking at his side. She was weeping.
"Mother! Father!" cried Fred. "What is it? What has happened?"
"I'll tell you what's happened!" exclaimed a gruff voice, and a roughly-dressed man appeared. "They ain't paid their rent for two months, and they're being dispossessed—put out—that's what it is."
"Mother, is this so?" asked Fred.
"Yes, dear. Your father lost his place as watchman, and our money gave out. But never mind. Now you are safe back I shan't worry. We can easily find another place. I can go back to sewing, and you will help us. Perhaps some of the neighbors will care for us until you can get work."
"You don't need work, mother!" cried Fred, throwing his arms about her neck. "We've got lots of money. The treasure hunt was a success! I've got fifteen thousand dollars in gold as my share!"
"Fifteen thousand dollars in gold!" repeated Mr. Stanley as if in a dream. "Then we needn't be dispossessed, mother."
"Oh, Fred! Fred!" cried Mrs. Stanley. "Can it be true? How did it come about? Did you really find the treasure? You're not sick, are you?"
"Sick? Why no, mother. What made you think that?"
"Because I can hardly believe what you say. I thought perhaps you might have been frozen, and been very ill and—and that it had turned your mind. I have read of persons in the far north going insane because of the dreadful whiteness and the cold."