"Well, it wouldn't do any harm, I s'pose," admitted Jimmy. "Come ahead over to the lodging-house, and we'll tell him about this advertisement." They found Dick feeling pretty comfortable, and, as he seemed able to converse about the mystery, Jimmy began on the subject that had brought Sam and himself to his partner's room. "Dick," asked Jimmy, "you don't s'pose you ran away to fight Indians; did you?" "Fight Indians? No. Why?" "And you didn't take any money from your dad; did you?" "Of course not. What makes you ask such questions?" "Because it's in der paper," replied Sam. "See, iss dis got anyding to do mit you?" and he held out the torn piece of the newspaper. Dick read it quickly, and slowly shook his head. A look of hope had come into his face when Sam had extended the slip, but it faded away again, leaving him pale and wan. "No, I'm sure that isn't my name," he said. "Are you sure?" asked Sam, who hated to give up the idea. "Very sure." "But didn't you want a pony?" asked the German youth. "No, as near as I can remember, I had a horse or a pony," replied Dick. "I seem to recall something about owning one. I know I used to take long drives in a carriage, through a beautiful country." "Den you didn't lif in New York," declared Sam, positively. "Dis is a great city, but dere ain't no beautiful country about it. I know. I lived in der country in der Vaterland, und dot vos country dere vot _vos_ country," and he sighed in regret. He looked at the piece of paper once more. "Vait!" he exclaimed. "Vos you ever haf a desire for a bicycle? Maybe dot's it. Maybe your fadder vouldn't gif you a bicycle, und you runned avay to hund Indians, und dey scalped you, und took your remembery mit 'em." "Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Dick, laughing in spite of himself. "I never cared much for a bicycle. I'm sure I shouldn't have run away from home because I couldn't have one." "Und der Indians didn't scalp you?" asked Sam, as if still in doubt. "No, indeed. I've got all my hair yet, even if my memory has gone back on me. I guess that must refer to some other boy. Why, of course it does. Here it says his first name is Isaac, and the description isn't at all like me." "Vell, dot's so," admitted Sam, when he had read the item over again. "I guess it must be somebodies else dan you. I'm sorry, Dick. I thought sure I hat found out who you vos." "I wish you had, Sam, but I'll find out some day." Dick sighed in regret, for the strain was beginning to tell on him. Nevertheless he bore up well. At the end of the week Dick was able to go out, and he felt so well that he insisted that he be allowed to sell papers. "I don't think you're able to," objected Jimmy. "Oh, yes, I am. Besides, I want to earn some money. I've been quite an expense to you." "Crimps! I don't mean that. But that's nothing. Look what you did for me. I'm ever so much better off since I met you."