The taxi turned toward Riverview. Arriving at the outskirts, Joe chose a boulevard which wound through the park. The trees, each limb and twig glistening with ice, were very beautiful.
Penny gazed absently toward the frozen lake where a few boys were skating. Suddenly her gaze fastened upon a man who sat on a park bench beneath a street lamp. He wore no hat. His overcoat was unbuttoned.
“That man!” she cried. “Salt, it looks like Dad! And it is he! It is!”
The man on the bench had turned slightly so that she was able to see his face.
Joe brought the cab to a halt with a jerk. Penny leaped out, followed by the others. The first to reach the bench, she fairly flung herself headlong at the disheveled man who sat so dejectedly alone.
“Oh, Dad, I’ve found you at last! How thankful I am you’re safe!”
The man on the bench stared blankly at her.
“Who are you?” he asked in a dazed voice.
“Why, I’m Penny—your daughter.”
“I have no daughter,” the man answered bitterly. “No home. Nothing. Not even a name.”