"Mr. Cahart! Oh, Mr. Cahart! Please stop! I want to see you!"
Mrs. Curtis was surprised at the effect of her son's voice on the man. He started, gazed about him, and then spying the little fellow in the carriage, came quickly toward them, seizing the small hand Bertie so cordially held out, and exclaiming with great energy:
"Aye, aye, boy, I'm powerful glad to see you!"
"This is my mamma," explained Bertie. "We came to pay Mr. Fuller's bill, and I hoped I should see you somewhere; but why didn't you let your son come to see us?"
Mr. Cahart's face worked convulsively. For a moment he seemed unable to articulate one word; but presently recovering himself he said, with a gasp:
"I've never set eyes on that boy since."
"Why, I'm so sorry, where is he?"
"Run off."
"Oh, dear! how could he do so?"
"Did you never find where he had gone?" inquired Mrs. Curtis in a deeply sympathizing tone.