worry!"

Picking the boy up in his arms Mr. Martin carried him through the snow
to the warm house. There the Curlytops and others gathered about him.

"He isn't Hal," whispered Janet after a look.

"No," answered her brother. "That isn't Hal."

"But he's lame," went on Janet, as she saw the boy limping across the
room to a chair near the fire which Mrs. Martin made comfortable for him
with blankets. "He's lame a whole lot!"

The Curlytops were anxious to hear the boy's story, but Daddy Martin
would not let him talk until he had eaten some food and taken some warm
milk.

"Now we'll listen to you," said Uncle Frank. "How did you come to go
into the bungalow?"

"I went in there to get out of the storm," answered the boy. "My name is
Arthur Wharton, and I used to be in the same Crippled Children's Home
with Hal Chester. That's how I knew your name and where you lived. Hal
told me. And when I was taken out of the Home I came to Cresco to find
you, for I thought maybe you would help me," and he looked at Daddy
Martin.

"Who took you away from the Home?" asked the Curlytops' father.

"A man who had charge of me after my father and mother died. They put me
in the Home to get cured, but when they died this man, who had charge of
what money my father left, said there was not enough to keep me there
with the other boys and girls.

"So he took me out and made me go to work. Only I couldn't do much on
account of my lame foot. So I ran away from that man. I had a little
money saved up, and I came here. I heard Hal say how kind the Curlytops
were and I wanted to see if their father could help me."

"Did you once come to my store?" asked Mr. Martin.

"Yes, I did," answered the lame boy. Mr. Martin did not speak of the
lost pocketbook and money.

"Why didn't you wait to see me?" asked Ted's father.

"Because, after I was sitting in your store waiting for you, I got to
thinking and I got scared for fear you'd send me back to that bad man
who used me so hard. So I went out when the clerk wasn't looking. I got
another place to work, and made enough to live on, but it was not as
nice as when my father and mother were alive."

"And did you afterward come to this house and ring the bell?" asked Mrs.
Martin.

"Yes, I was going to ask you to help me. But, at the last minute, I got
afraid again and ran away. After that I didn't know what to do. I got a
little work, but it wasn't much, and three or four days ago I was
discha