Chapter XIII.
A JOYFUL MEETING.
It is highly probable that one might have searched over New York City that night and not found a happier household than that of Mrs. Green’s. Paul was so wonderfully happy in the thought that he was going back to Chicago, where, even though he could not see his parents, he should find relatives and friends, that he could talk of little else. Even the theatre was forgotten by him; for when Mopsey spoke of the necessity of getting another boy to take his place in the dramatic company he hardly gave the matter a thought, except to say that he hoped they would make plenty of money out of it. And Paul’s partners were happy, more happy than they could possibly have been by any other outlay of their money; Paul’s pleasure reflected on them to such a degree that they became almost as much excited as he was before the evening was over.
Good Mrs. Green alternately laughed and cried, until she seemed to realize that such nervousness was not exactly suitable to the occasion, and then she busied herself by reading one of the papers Ben had brought home.
Master Treat had spent so much time on the good work he had carried through so successfully, and then had paid so much more attention to the boy he was going to surprise than to the sale of his goods, that, instead of helping Johnny as had been his purpose when he took some of his papers to sell, he was a drawback, and the consequence was that Mrs. Green had three evening papers to read, while Messrs. Jones and Treat had been “stuck” just that number.
After she had joined in the general good time over Paul’s good-fortune with her daughter and her boarders, and found that she was marring rather than adding to it by her nervousness, she ceased to pay any more attention to what was said by those about her, but became interested in the advertisements of fruit for sale. Suddenly she came across something that seemed to surprise her greatly, for she took off her glasses and wiped them, as though she mistrusted that which she saw was on the glass and not in the paper.
After satisfying herself that she was not the victim of an optical delusion, her face was a remarkable sight, exhibiting as it did surprise and delight alternately. It appeared as if it was difficult for her to speak, for she tried several times before she succeeded in saying,
“Listen to me every one of you, an’ if I ain’t mistaken Paul will be more glad to hear this than he was to get his ticket. This is what it says in this paper, word for word: ‘Paul Weston’—that’s in big letters. ‘Any one who can give information of Paul Weston, who strayed from an outward-bound steamer on the afternoon of the seventeenth, will receive a handsome reward by calling on the undersigned. Said boy is ten years old, has light hair, blue eyes, nose slightly turned up, and at the time of his disappearance was dressed in dark blue clothes; he would most likely be trying to make his way to Chicago, and any one who has seen such a boy will please communicate at once with Rufus Weston, Fifth Avenue Hotel.’ There! what do you think of that?” and Mrs. Green looked around at her circle of listeners, who appeared to have been stricken dumb with astonishment.
“Why, that means me!” exclaimed Paul, suddenly, as if he had thought some one else was spoken of. “And Rufus Weston, that’s my father! He didn’t go away, after all. And now, somebody, tell me where that hotel is.”
As he spoke he had grasped his coat and hat, running from the house at full speed before he even knew which direction he should take. There were none of that party who had a very clear idea of what they were saying or doing just then; but as the most important thing in their minds was to see this father of Paul’s, who had come at a time when his son was about to go home without his assistance, each one of the boys started out in the same rapid way, overtaking their more excited companion just as he was stopping to consider which direction he should take.