"You are a brave boy to tackle two bullies at once in that fashion,"
said the father kindly as he swung the little girl up in his strong
arms. "And there's breeding about that terrier of yours, and no
mistake!"
Pat was still breathing quickly and wagging his tail excitedly, as if
expecting another battle. "You are a stranger to me, and yet I seem to
know your face. What is your name?"
Dick almost answered "Lionheart," but stopped just in time. "Richard
Hart Crosby."
"Of course! And you're his living image; but he had neither wife nor
child."
"Do you mean my uncle, sir. Do you know him."
"Know Dick Crosby? Almost as well as I know Nellie here. And I've
heard him speak of his brother many times."
"Then, sir, if you know him, won't you tell me where he lives, that I
may go to him at once? I only heard about him just lately, and I've
come all the way from Venley to find him."
"I'll tell you all I can, but you can't go to him to-day, for he went
off to Klondyke more than a year ago, and I've only heard from him once
since he went."
Poor Dick! The disappointment following so quickly on success was
almost too much. A big lump came in his throat and tears blurred his
sight, so that he could scarcely see the ugly rubbish heap and the
cinders that lay around.
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