“HE IS LIVING NOW!” answered the banker.
Tom stared at the speaker in incredulous amazement. Dr. Lycurgus B. Spooner and Mr. Brush seemed equally amazed. All looked to their guest for an explanation.
“You wonder,” continued the banker, without waiting to be questioned, “you wonder, no doubt, why, if this is the case, that your father did not return to his home and family. I can tell you in four sad words. Though your father did not lose his life, he did lose his reason. The blow which he received upon his head affected his brain, and he has never recovered the use of his mental faculties since.”
“Where is he?” asked Tom, soberly, for this was heavy news.
“He is boarding in a private family in San Francisco. Let me explain, that, though he is not sane, he is not violent, and does not therefore require to be confined in an asylum. He is quiet and sane in many respects. He boards in a small family where there are children, and so far as one in his condition may, he appears to enjoy life. He is in good physical condition, works about the garden, goes on errands for the family, and is able to be useful in many ways.”
“But what supports him?” asked Tom, anxiously. “His board amounts to something. How is it paid?”
“I pay it,” answered Mr. Percival.
Tom rose impulsively and seized his hand.
“Thank you, sir, for your generous kindness to my poor father,” he said.
“My boy, I would be glad to accept your thanks, if I deserved them, but you must remember that for eight years I have had possession of a considerable sum of money belonging to your father.”