"Is your father actually suffering for the want of some cash?" asked our hero, quickly. "If he is, I think my father or my Uncle Dunston can help him out." "Your father has already promised to assist him, and so has Mr. Wadsworth, Dave. But that isn't the thing. You know my father is an independent sort of man, and it worries him to think that he can't stand entirely on his own feet in his real estate transactions. Of course, if he were well enough to be around I suppose he could adjust matters without any special assistance. But it's hard lines when things go wrong and you are flat on your back in bed." "Yes, I can understand that. And it must worry your mother, too." "Oh, it does! Ma isn't the same woman. She is awfully pale and quite thin. The doctor told her not to worry so, or she'd be down on her back, too." "Well, you'll have to do what you can to cheer up both of them." Dave drew a long breath. "I do wish somebody would catch those two rascals, not only on your account but on my account also. I'd like to settle matters with Porton, for having impersonated me at those stores, and for taking my cap and overcoat." "We've offered a reward of five thousand dollars for the return of the miniatures, and another thousand each for the capture of the thieves," announced Ben. "That ought to be a strong inducement for the detectives to do all they possibly can." "We thought you might possibly get an offer from Porton or Crapsey, or both of them, to return the miniatures for a certain amount," went on Dave. "But you say no such offer has come in?" "No." "Would your father consider it if it did come in?" "I don't know what he would do, Dave. Of course, he'd hate to give up money to a thief; but, just the same, he'd hate it worse if he never got the miniatures back." At last came the time for Dave to leave home. His trunk had been packed and shipped on ahead. There was still considerable snow on the ground; so he was taken to the depot in the big Wadsworth sleigh, the girls and his father accompanying him. "Good-bye, Davy, my boy!" cried his Uncle Dunston, when he was ready to leave the house. "Now I expect you to give a good account of yourself while with that construction company." "I'll do what I can," he answered. "And do keep away from the Mexicans," added Mrs. Wadsworth with a sigh. "You trust David to do the right thing," came from old Caspar Potts, his mellow eyes beaming brightly. "David is all right. He's my boy, and I'm proud of him," and he nodded his head over and over again. For the girls, the drive to the depot was all too short. Laura had so many things to say to her brother that she hardly knew what to speak of first. As for poor Jessie, she felt so bad she could scarcely speak, and when she looked at Dave there were unbidden tears in her eyes. "Now don't look at it that way," David whispered, when he caught sight of the tears. "I'll be back again before a great while."