The dinner was a triumph. Every body said so. Mr. Clarkson and all concerned were in high spirits, and Harrison came in for his full share of praise. It was half-past five when he took his well-filled basket from the cook, and setting it in a safe place, washed his face and hands till they shone then, having smoothed his hair out in the court with his pocket-comb, he ascended the stairs in search of number five.
Mr. Haven had come in, and was seated in a large lounging-chair giving his wife an account of a sad scene he had just witnessed. A man had been found in the dock, having apparently been in the water two or three days. Some papers in his pockets informed the police who he was, and in coming from the wharf he had passed them, bearing the body to a wagon to convey it home.
"Had he a family?" inquired Mrs. Haven, with deep feeling.
"I did not learn," was the reply.
In the mean time Bridget had answered Harrison's low knock, and he had advanced halfway across the room before his presence was noticed, so absorbed were they in the sad tale.
"O mamma! here is Harrison!" called out Ella.
"Don't scream so, Ella!" exclaimed Alfred in a fretful tone. "Your voice goes right through my head."
"Come here, my boy," said Mr. Haven, kindly. "Ella says you're in trouble."
The lad blushed, but answered modestly, "I lost all my money, sir. I suppose she told you what I was saving it for."
"Yes, and it was a very worthy object. Have you any suspicion of the thief?"