aged to be married to a young
man whom she ardently loved. She was a different woman then from what
she is now. But her lover deserted her just before the wedding was to
have come off, and she's never got over the disappointment. But that
isn't what I was going to talk about. You haven't told me about your
adopted sister."
"That's what I've come to Philadelphia about," said Jack, soberly. "Ida
has been carried off, and I've been sent in search of her."
"Been carried off!" exclaimed his uncle, in amazement. "I didn't know
such things ever happened in this country. What do you mean?"
In answer to this question Jack told the story of Mrs. Hardwick's
arrival with a letter from Ida's mother, conveying the request that the
child might, under the guidance of the messenger, be allowed to pay her
a visit. To this, and the subsequent details, Abel Crump listened with
earnest attention.
"So you have reason to think the child is in (sic) Phildelphia?" he
said, musingly.
"Yes," said Jack, "Ida was seen in the cars, coming here, by a boy who
knew her in New York."
"Ida!" repeated his Uncle Abel, looking up, suddenly.
"Yes. You know that's my sister's name, don't you?"
"Yes, I dare say I have known it; but I have heard so little of
your family lately, that I had forgotten it. It is rather a singular
circumstance."
"What is singular!"
"I will tell you," said his uncle. "It may not amount to anything,
however. A few days since, a little girl came into my shop to buy
a small amount of bread. I was at once favorably impressed with her
appearance. She was neatly dressed, and had a very sweet face."
"What was her name?" inquired Jack.
"That I will tell you by and by. Having made the purchase, she handed me
in payment a silver dollar. 'I'll keep that for my little girl,' thought
I at once. Accordingly, when I went home at night, I just took the
dollar out the till, and gave it to her. Of course she was delighted
with it, and, like a child, wanted to spend it at once. So her mother
agreed to go out with her the next day. Well, they selected some
nicknack or other, but when they came to pay for it the dollar proved to
be spurious."
"Spurious!"
"Yes, bad. Got up, no doubt, by a gang of coiners. When they told me of
this I thought to myself, 'Can it be that this little girl knew what she
was about when she offered me that money?' I couldn't think it possible,
but decided to wait till she came again."
"Did she
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