There was a handsome carriage in waiting, with a coachman in livery perched on the box.
"Edward," said Mrs. Fitch, her face fairly glowing with delight, "do you see? Little Harry has come back."
"So he has, Heaven bless him!" said the coachman, heartily. "How do you do, Master Harry?"
"I'm pooty well," answered the little boy.
"Where did you find him, ma'am, if I may be so bold?"
"This young gentleman brought him back, Edward. Now, drive right home."
"Won't you go around to the office, ma'am, and tell master?"
"No; he must have left the office by this time. We shall see him at supper to-night."
Half an hour later the carriage drew up in front of a handsome residence, far enough from the centre of the city to have a side yard of considerable dimensions, in the rear of which stood a brick stable. It was clear that Mr. Fitch was a man of wealth, so Jasper decided.
Of the sensation produced in the house by Harry's arrival I will not speak. Jasper found himself regarded in the light of the heroic deliverer of the little boy from captivity, though he laughingly disclaimed the credit attaching to such a character.