e
held a secret among us, for I see you can keep your lips closed as well
as any man."

The doctor scowled. He never liked personal remarks.

"Now, mynheer," continued Raff, "you can take your rightful pay. God
knows you have earned it, if bringing such a poor tool back to the world
and his family can be called a service. Tell the vrouw what's to pay,
mynheer. She will hand out the sum right willingly."

"Tut, tut!" said the doctor kindly. "Say nothing about money. I can
find plenty of such pay any time, but gratitude comes seldom. That boy's
thank-you," he added, nodding sidewise toward Hans, "was pay enough for
me."

"Like enough ye have a boy of your own," said Dame Brinker, quite
delighted to see the great man becoming so sociable.

Dr. Boekman's good nature vanished at once. He gave a growl (at least,
it seemed so to Gretel), but made no actual reply.

"Do not think the vrouw meddlesome, mynheer," said Raff. "She has been
sore touched of late about a lad whose folks have gone away--none knows
where--and I had a message for them from the young gentleman."

"The name was Boomphoffen," said the dame eagerly. "Do you know aught of
the family, mynheer?"

The doctor's reply was brief and gruff.

"Yes. A troublesome set. They went long since to America."

"It might be, Raff," persisted Dame Brinker timidly, "that the meester
knows somebody in that country, though I'm told they are mostly savages
over there. If he could get the watch to the Boomphoffens with the poor
lad's message, it would be a most blessed thing."

"Tut, vrouw, why pester the good meester, and dying men and women
wanting him everywhere? How do ye know ye have the true name?"

"I'm sure of it," she replied. "They had a son Lambert, and there's an
L for Lambert and a B for Boomphoffen, on the back, though, to be sure,
there's an odd J, too, but the meester can look for himself."

So saying, she drew forth the watch.

"L.J.B.!" cried Dr. Boekman, springing toward her.

Why attempt to describe the scene that followed? I need only say that
the lad's message was delivered to his father at last, delivered while
the great surgeon was sobbing like a little child.

"Laurens! My Laurens!" he cried, gazing with yearning eyes at the watch
as he held it tenderly in his palm. "Ah, if I had but known sooner!
Laurens a homeless wanderer--great heaven! He may be suffering, dying
at this moment! Think, man, where is he? Where did my boy say that the
let