Dick's face bore a broad grin as he entered the room. He looked dreadfully mischievous. Assuming as serious an expression as I could conjure, I said to him:
"Why, what's the meaning of this, Dick? How do you come to be in town? Are you with Aunt Hannah?"
"It's all rightbrother-in-law," he answered lightly. "No, I am not with Aunt Hannah, nor is Aunt Hannah with me. I have come up on my own."
"'On your own'? What do you mean?"
"I'll tell you, butwon't you introduce me, Mike?"
"Easterton," I said, "this is Roland Challoner's boy, Dick. Jack, this is the boy I told you about who was chloroformed by the thieves at Holt."
Jack's eyes rested on Dick. Then he put out his hand.
"Come here, old chap," he said in his deep voice. For several moments he held Dick's hand in his while he sat looking at him.
"Yes," he said at last, "I have heard about youDick. I heard about what you did that day those men caught you. Keep that spirit up, my boyyour family has never lacked pluck, if history is to be trustedand you'll become one of the kind of men England so badly needs. What are you doing in London? Is your father with you?"
"No, I have come up on my own," Dick repeated. "I am going to tell Mike why, in a moment. Are you Mr. Jack Osborne that Mike is always talking to my sister about, who took Mike to that housethe house where the fire was?"