The Newsboy Partners: or, Who Was Dick Box?

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

Dick 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 Dick 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 Dick's manner showed him something unusual was taking place.

"What is the matter, Dick?" 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 Dick 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 ship 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 Dick, 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 Dick.

"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.

"Dick Sanden."

"That's me! That's me!" exclaimed Dick, springing to his feet. "I remember now! I'm Dick Box no longer! I'm Dick 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 Dick. "I – I can't seem to remember." He passed his hand across his forehead. "I can't recall that," he said piteously.

CHAPTER XXV

WHO DICK BOX WAS – CONCLUSION

Crossing the room Mr. Crosscrab put his arm about Dick.

"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 identity, but we must go slowly. Your memory can not all come back at once. It will take a little time."

"Do you know his father's name?" asked Jimmy.

"Yes, if that man is his father. But I wanted to see if he could recall it. That would almost prove that Dick Box is Dick Sanden. Mr. Sanden's name is Oliver, and he lives in the township of Slaterville, Vermont."

"That's it! I remember now!" cried Dick joyfully. "My father is Mr. Oliver Sanden, of Slaterville. Now I am sure who I am."

"We must not be too positive," cautioned Mr. Crosscrab with a smile. "Your memory may be playing you tricks again, and you may think because I mention a name that it is the one you have forgotten. However, we can soon make sure."

"How?" inquired Jimmy with tremendous interest.

"I will telegraph my father to go at once and see Mr. Sanden. He can come here to-morrow morning, and then we can make positive if Dick Box is Richard Sanden."

"I'm sure I am," said Dick with a smile. "It is beginning to come back to me now. I remember father and mother starting for Europe and how I was to go to Chicago."

"What happened after you got to the Grand Central Station?" asked Jimmy. "Why didn't you go to Chicago?"

"That's something I can't remember. That's still a puzzle."

"Well, don't worry over it," advised Mr. Crosscrab. "We will try and have it all straightened out to-morrow. You had better lie down and rest."

"Lie down! I couldn't lie down when I am thinking this way," replied Dick. "I am so anxious to see my parents."

After a few more questions Mr. Crosscrab was reasonably certain that Dick Box was indeed Dick Sanden, for Dick could describe different parts of the farm and things in Slaterville with which Mr. Crosscrab was familiar.

The two boys were eager to talk over the unexpected discovery of Dick's identity as made by Mr. Crosscrab, but the latter insisted that Dick must be kept quiet, and he threatened to take Jimmy away unless they got more calm, as he feared Dick would become ill again.

It seemed to Dick that he would never get to sleep, but at length his brain, tired with the many thoughts that flitted through it, was quiet, and he slept heavily until morning. Meanwhile Mr. Crosscrab had sent off the telegram.

Dick and Jimmy decided not to sell papers the next day. They were both too excited to pay proper attention to the business, and Frank Merton and Sam Schmidt were called on.

How long the hours seemed before it would be possible for Mr. Sanden to arrive! There had come a telegram to Mr. Crosscrab stating that he had started from Slaterville at midnight and expected to be in New York about noon.

As Jimmy, Dick and Mr. Crosscrab sat in the room of the newsboy partners anxiously waiting there sounded out in the corridor the tramp of several feet.

"That's the room right in there," they heard Mr. Snowdon say, directing some one. The next instant the door opened. In rushed a man and woman.

"Dick!" they exclaimed in a breath, and a moment later Dick was folded in the arms of his father and mother.

For Dick Box was really Dick Sanden, and the mystery of his identity was solved.

What a happy time followed, and how fervent were the thanks poured out on Mr. Crosscrab for his part in the affair I leave my young readers to imagine.