He sat down and wrote the following note:
"DEAR PARENTS: I arrived in Philadelphia right side up with care,
and am stopping at Uncle Abel's. He received me very kindly. I have
got track of Ida, though I have not found her yet. I have learned as
much as this: that this Mrs. Hardwick—who is a double-distilled
she-rascal—probably has Ida in her clutches, and has sent her on two
occasions to my uncle's. I am spending most of my time in the streets,
keeping a good lookout for her. If I do meet her, see if I don't get
Ida away from her. But it may take some time. Don't get discouraged,
therefore, but wait patiently. Whenever anything new turns up you will
receive a line from your dutiful son,
"JACK."
Jack had been in the city eight days when, as he was sauntering along the street, he suddenly perceived in front of him, a shawl which struck him as wonderfully like the one worn by Mrs. Hardwick. Not only that, but the form of the wearer corresponded to his recollections of the nurse. He bounded forward, and rapidly passing the suspected person, turned suddenly and confronted the woman of whom he had been in search.
The recognition was mutual. Peg was taken aback by this unexpected encounter.
Her first impulse was to make off, but Jack's resolute expression warned her that he was not to be trifled with.
"Mrs. Hardwick?" exclaimed Jack.
"You are right," said she, rapidly recovering her composure, "and you, if I am not mistaken, are John Harding, the son of my worthy friends in New York."
"Well," ejaculated Jack, internally, "she's a cool un, and no mistake."
"My name is Jack," he said, aloud.
"Did you leave all well at home?" asked Peg.