"It's the very boy!" was Lyman's exulting thought. "I'm in luck at last. Lyman, old man, your plans are going to be realized."
"Were you ever called Jack?" he asked, anxiously.
"Yes; that's what Aunt Peggy calls me. Other people call me Johnny."
"My boy," said Lyman, fervently, "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. I am sure now you are my little cousin. Where does Peggy live?"
The match boy named the place—a poor street in a poor neighborhood.
"Take me there at once. I want to see your Aunt Peggy."
"But Peggy will be mad if I don't stay and sell matches, sir."
"Come along; I will make it right with her."
Lyman took the little boy's hand, and the two turned off Clark Street, and went in pursuit of Peggy.