Supper can wait. I
believe you have been in danger and won't say so for fear of frightening
me. Did their beautiful home burn down--what a pity that would be? And
what caused it all."
"One question at a time, mom. I might as well tell you the whole story,
because I know I won't get a bite of supper until I do. But they made
too much of such a little thing, sure they did."
So Dick in his own modest way related how he had happened to be at the
door of the banker's house when the terrible accident occurred that
might have caused a severe loss if the fire had been allowed to run
riot; he even declared that he believed the flames would have died out
even though no one had come; but the fond mother, reading between the
lines, knew that she had good reason to feel proud of her boy that
night, and in her heart she undoubtedly sent up prayers of gratitude
that he had come through the incident with so little harm.
Dick kept his other news until the time when, as usual, they sat
together on the little porch, Mrs. Morrison having bound up his hand
again, and pretending not to notice how eagerly the lad secreted the
little kerchief that was now in sore need of cleansing.
Then he told of the events of the day, and Mrs. Morrison hung on his
words as if they thrilled her to the core; her boy was an actor in this
strange little drama that was being gradually unfolded, and when the
final scene was reached it would be found that Dick had had more than
his share to do with the solving of the riddle as to what had become of
Mr.
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