A QUEER FISH POND PARTY
Miles stared at Rex as though he did not comprehend the meaning of the
word.
“A fortune?” he repeated. “What fortune?”
“Why, your fortune, to be sure,” returned Rex.
“But I don’t understand,” went on Miles. “How can I have a fortune?”
“Easy enough, since your father has one. Syd knows all about it. You’re
a lucky fellow, Miles. It’s somewhere about half a million.”
Miles looked very grave for half a minute, then a smile broke out over
his face.
“Come, Rex,” he said, “I see through your joke, so you might as well
drop it. You oughtn’t to have made the sum so high if you expected me
to believe it.”
“It’s true, all the same, Miles.”
But Miles still shook his head and declared he should wait to believe
till Mr. Sydney told him all about it.
“I wonder if Syd will tell him the whole thing tonight?” Rex asked
himself, but Sydney was not home to dinner.
There was a note from him to Rex, however, asking that he and Roy and
Miles should meet him at the Continental Hotel that night at eight.
This threw Rex into a great state of excitement. He knew that the
crisis was at hand.
Roy took things more quietly, but inwardly he was none the less
excited.
“Syd wants us to meet him down town,” he said as they rose from the
table.
He had been waiting for Rex to tell Miles, but the other had not yet
brought himself to do it.
“Where are you going?” Jess wanted to know. “To the theater?”
“No, indeed,” responded Rex. Then he folded up his napkin quickly and
left the dining room.
“Has this visit got anything to do with my father?” Miles whispered to
Roy, as they went out into the hall together.
“I think it has, Miles, but I don’t know much more about it than you
do.”
There was not much said by the three boys on their way down town. Rex
was in one of his silent moods, and made no effort to get out of it.
Roy tried to talk, but there was such a weight on his mind that he made
but poor success of the attempt.
Miles was far too excited, however, to notice the difference in manner
of the twins compared with their usual cordiality.
They found Sydney waiting for them in the corridor of the hotel. He was
looking very haggard, but he seemed very glad to see Miles.
“I have good news for you, my boy,” he said; “good and bad, too. I have
found your father, but he is not quite himself.”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Miles, while Roy and Rex looked their
interest.
“His mind is affected,” Sydney went on. “We hope the sight of you may
have a favorable effect, but be careful not to be excited yourself when
you see him. Take it quite as a matter of course.”
Miles drew in a long breath. It was going to be rather a difficult
matter for him to take easily a meeting with the father he had thought
never to see.
“Where is he?” he asked in a faint tone.
“Not far from here. Come, we will go there at once.”
On the way to Mrs. Fox’s Sydney explained that he and the old lady had
arranged that she should give a sort of boys’ party at which Mr. Darley
should be present. He would then have an opportunity to study Miles
quietly, while the latter was engaged in playing games.
“You look so much like him,” Sydney added, “that we hope he may
recognize you.”
Miles appeared to be somewhat astonished when they halted before the
odd little home in Seventh Street. But he said nothing, and the next
moment they were all being warmly welcomed by Mrs. Fox.
The old lady was so excited that both her hands and voice trembled. She
came near crying when she first saw Miles, but she greeted him exactly
as she had the twins. There was a game of Fish Pond on the center
table.
“Now, boys,” she said, “try your luck.”
They all drew up to the table, Sydney taking a rod, too. The old lady
stood looking on behind Miles’s chair. Presently she went out into the
back room and in a few minutes returned, accompanied by a gentleman who
did not look to be over thirty-seven. He was dressed very handsomely
and his resemblance to Miles was striking.
“Mr. Darley, boys,” said Mrs. Fox, as the two came up to the table. “Go
right on with your fishing; we will watch you.”
She had taken up her stand this time behind Rex, who was sitting just
opposite Miles.
“Glad to meet you, boys,” remarked Mr. Darley, in a pleasant voice.
“How is the market?”
Rex, with an effort, collected himself sufficiently to answer, “Oh,
pretty fair, sir.”
“Only pretty fair, eh?” went on the other. “Keep at it, though. You’re
bound to win some time, as I have. Look here.”
He put his hand in the side pocket of his coat and drew forth a great
mass of chips, all covered with gilt paper.
A look of agony was on Miles’s face. It was almost worse than finding
no father at all, to find such a one as this.
“Don’t you want to take my rod and fish a while, sir?” he said, feeling
that it would be impossible for him to longer sit still.
“Thank you; you are very kind. I might take a single flyer.”
Mr. Darley stepped around to take Miles’s seat, but as the other rose
they were face to face, and very close to each other for an instant.
Mr. Darley put out both hands and grasped the boy by the shoulders.
“What is your name?” he said in a tone that was quite different from
the one in which he had hitherto spoken. It was much more decided, and
firmer.
“Miles,” answered the other, trying his best to keep his excitement
down.
He could see Mrs. Fox standing just behind his father, her hands
clasped together in an agony of suspense.
“Miles, eh! Well, you look as if your name ought to be Maurice. Great
Cæsar! doesn’t he look like me, Mrs. Fox?”
He wheeled around so suddenly that the poor old lady was taken quite
unawares. She dropped her hands quickly to her sides and had not a word
to say.
“Don’t he look like me?” Mr. Darley now appealed to Sydney, who managed
to stammer out: “I certainly see a strong resemblance, sir.”
“What is your last name, young man?” went on the other.
Miles hesitated an instant. He was about to say Darley, but some happy
instinct prompted him to substitute “Morrisey.”
Mr. Darley started.
“Morrisey, you say?” he exclaimed.
A swift change passed over his features. He had dropped his hand from
Miles’s shoulders, but now reached forth and caught him by the arm.
“Come with me,” he said quietly, and led him into the back room.
The others looked at one another without speaking. No one thought of
the game. The fish lines, tangled up, were lying in the pasteboard
pond.
Mrs. Fox had sunk down on the sofa, her head covered with her apron.
From the inner room came the subdued sound of voices.
“Do you suppose he has recognized him?” It was Rex who at length broke
the silence, and he spoke in an awed whisper.
Nobody made any reply, for footsteps were heard approaching from the
rear. It was Miles. His face was handsomer than Rex had ever seen it.
It was lighted up with joy.
He came straight to Rex and put a hand on his shoulder, while he leaned
over till his chin rested on the other’s head.
“I want to tell you first, Rex,” he said, “who have been the means of
bringing me to this happiness. He knows me. His mind has come back to
him. He called me Maurice, and he remembers giving me to the Morriseys
to take care of for a while. Then his brain went back on him, and he
thought I was dead.”
“Where is he?” asked Rex.
“Lying down on the bed. He is utterly exhausted. I must go back to him
now,” and Miles hurried off again.