The Newsboy Partners; Or, Who Was Dick Box? Part 34

"He is out selling papers," replied d.i.c.k. "I'm his partner. Can I do anything for you."

"Well, I just dropped in to pay him a friendly visit, as I promised I would. I'm Mr. Crosscrab."

"Oh, yes, I've often heard Jimmy speak of you. Won't you sit down.

He'll soon be in."

d.i.c.k stepped out of the shadow cast by a shelf on the wall and offered Mr. Crosscrab a chair. As the light fell upon the boy's face the visitor stepped back in amazement.

"Who--who are you?" asked Mr. Crosscrab.

"Why, I'm Jimmy's partner."

"Yes, but what--what is your name?"

"Well, Jimmy calls me d.i.c.k Box. My first name is d.i.c.k, but I have forgotten my other."

"Yes, yes! I know. You're d.i.c.k Box. At least, that's what Jimmy calls you. But--yes, it must be--yet I had better make certain before I tell him," and these last words Mr. Crosscrab murmured in a low voice.

d.i.c.k did not know what to make of the man's manner.

"What is it?" he asked. "What is the matter?"

"I wish I had known this before I went to Vermont," went on Mr.

Crosscrab, speaking to himself. "Yet it must be the same one. But how could he be here when he's supposed to be in Chicago?"

d.i.c.k began to be a little alarmed. He thought perhaps Mr. Crosscrab might be a little insane. He wished Jimmy would come in.

"Can't you remember your other name?" asked the visitor. "Try--try very hard."

"I have tried--every day, but it's no use."

"Do you know where you came from?"

"No. All I can remember is a large house with lots of ground about it, and a man and woman who were kind to me. Oh, Mr. Crosscrab, do you know anything about me? Do you know who I am? Tell me, please, if you do!"

"I am not sure, yet you look exactly the same. Tell me, can you remember anything about the house where you used to live?"

d.i.c.k puzzled his brain. Strange shadows seemed to flit past him, yet they meant nothing.

"Can you recall a little brook that used to run in front of the house, across the road, and a little rustic bridge that spanned it?" asked Mr.

Crosscrab.

"Yes! Yes!" cried d.i.c.k eagerly. "I begin to remember now. Help me, please do!"

At that instant the door opened and Jimmy entered. He looked in surprise at Mr. Crosscrab, and then d.i.c.k's manner showed him something unusual was taking place.

"What is the matter, d.i.c.k?" he asked. "Are you sick again?"

"No, but Mr. Crosscrab thinks he knows who I am. He is trying to help me remember."

"I am not sure," replied the visitor in answer to Jimmy's look. "This is the first time I have seen your partner, and I do not want to raise false hopes. Yet he may be a certain boy of whom I heard on my recent visit to my home in Vermont."

"Who is he?" asked Jimmy.

"Perhaps I had better tell you the story," suggested Mr. Crosscrab.

"Then we can decide what to do. But don't be disappointed if, after all, the secret of d.i.c.k Box is still unsolved."

"Oh, I hope I can find out who I am," murmured the boy who had forgotten the past.

"When I was home this trip," went on Mr. Crosscrab, "I heard my father tell about a friend of his owning a farm not far away whose son is missing. The boy had been gone for several months, but the father only just learned of it."

"How was that?" asked Jimmy.

"This way: The farmer I speak of lived with his wife and son on a big farm near my father's. One day, some time ago, all three started for New York. The farmer and his wife had to go to Europe to settle up an estate to which the farmer had fallen heir, and his wife went with him.

As they expected to travel about considerably, for part of the property was in Germany and part in France, they decided not to take their son with them. He was to be sent to a cousin in Chicago who would care for him until his parents returned.

"The three arrived in New York, where the boy was to take a train for Chicago and the father and mother embark on a s.h.i.+p for Europe. They took their son to the Grand Central Station here, and, bidding him farewell, left him just before he was to take his train as they had to go aboard their vessel. That was the last they saw of their son. They went to Europe, and as they had to travel about more than they expected they lost considerable of their mail. They never got a letter from the cousin in Chicago telling about their son, but they did not worry, for, though they would liked to have heard from him, they thought he was all right. They wrote a number of letters to him, but he never got them."

"Why not?" asked d.i.c.k, who was deeply interested.

"Because the boy never got to Chicago. He disappeared somewhere between here and there, maybe after arriving in the western city. His father and mother never knew it until they came back from Europe last week. Then, in answer to a telegram to the cousin in Chicago asking how their son was, there came a message saying he had never arrived.

The cousin, after receiving letters from the other side, which indicated that the boy's parents believed their son was with her, had tried to send them word that he had never arrived, but of course the messages did not reach the boy's father and mother.

"So they never knew until they got back the other day that he has been missing all this while. They are heartbroken, and they have hired private detectives to find him if possible. This is the story my father told me when I was home, and he showed me a picture of the missing boy."

"Does the picture look like me?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"Very much. So much so that I was startled when I came in here and saw you."

"What's the missing boy's name?" asked Jimmy.

"d.i.c.k Sanden."

"That's me! That's me!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, springing to his feet. "I remember now! I'm d.i.c.k Box no longer! I'm d.i.c.k Sanden! I remember it all! Oh, how glad I am!"

"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Crosscrab, for he did not want the boy to be mistaken. "Be careful now. What is your father's name?"

"My father's name? My father's name?" murmured d.i.c.k. "I--I can't seem to remember." He pa.s.sed his hand across his forehead. "I can't recall that," he said piteously.

CHAPTER XXV

WHO d.i.c.k BOX WAS--CONCLUSION

Crossing the room Mr. Crosscrab put his arm about d.i.c.k.

"You must calm yourself," he said, for the boy was on the verge of tears and a nervous breakdown. "Let us reason this matter out. I really believe we can establish your ident.i.ty, but we must go slowly.