The Argosy, January 1907 — page 189: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HOME, SWEET HOME. of surprise, the hugs, the kisses, the re- proaches, the gratulations. As we reached the dining-room door I heard the hum of voices and the clatter . of plates within. Evidently, the family was already gathered around the table. i moved aside to let my companion precede me, and then I stepped into the room. My hour of triumph had arrived. “Good morning, ladies and gentle- men!” I cried, and then I uttered an ex- clamation of startled surprise. The little group gathered around the table was not my family. ‘There was an old man and an old woman, and a young man and a young woman, and I did not know a single one of them. For a second it flashed across my mind that I must be in the wrong house. The dining-room was exactly as I had left it six months previously. The same furniture, the same pictures on the wall, the same bric-a-brac on the shelf. I knew every inch of it. Undoubtedly it was our dining-room. lor a moment I stood there looking at these strange people out of startled eyes, while they returned my. stare with in- terest. Finally the old woman broke the spell by speaking. “What is it you want, young man?” she inquired pleasantly. “If you desire to engage a room, please step up-stairs into the parlor. I'll see you after break- fast.” ‘Engage a room!” I gasped. ‘‘ What on earth should I want to engage a room for? I live here. This ismy home. My name is Thomas Crary, Junior, madam. Will you kindly tell me where I will find my mother and father, and Ella and Maude, and what all you people are doing here in our dining-room?”’ ‘“He’s crazy,” whispered the young man at the table. “Send for the police,” muttered the old man. The, pretty girl who had lost her door- key uttered no word, but she looked very scared. The old lady smiled. “ You say that your name is Thomas Crary, Junior,” she said. “TI think I understand. -You’re Mrs. Crary’s only son, young man, are you not? You’ve 371 been touring Europe the last few months?” “ Exactly, madam,” I replied. “ Will you have the goodness to tell me what you’ve done with my mother and father and sisters?” “Your mother and father and sisters don’t live here any more,’’ answered the old lady gently. “They sublet their home to us a month ago. ‘This house is now Mrs. Peters’s Select Boarding Es- tablishment.”’ “Mrs. Peters’s Select Boarding Es- . tablishment!” I gasped. ‘“ But where are my folks, madam? What has be- come of them? ‘They did not write me a single word about taking this strange step.” “I believe your folks are in Europe. Your father’s health ran down, and his physician advised a long foreign trip. Your family decided to spend a few years abroad, and so they sublet this house to us.” “ But why :didn’t they write?” I de- manded dazedly. ‘‘ Why didn’t they let me know?” “If I remember rightly,” said the old lady, “ Mrs. Crary told me that she ex- pected to meet her only son on the other side, and that they wanted to surprise him.” “Well, apparently I missed them on the other side, but they’ve certainly sur- prised me, all right,” I exclaimed; and then I began to laugh uproariously. ‘““What’s the matter?” asked every- body anxiously. “The joke isn’t on me,” I roared. “Tt’s on one of your boarders, Mrs. Peters. I had him locked up last night for trying to enter this house. He’s in jail now. ‘The police are going to send him away as a desperate burglar.” “One of my boarders locked up!” gasped Mrs. Peters. ‘“‘ You don’t mean Mr. Robert Watson, do you?” “If I remember rightly, he tried to make the police believe that was his name,” I replied. At my words the pretty girl who had lost her key let out a loud scream. “Oh, my brother—my poor brother Robert—locked up in a horrid prison! ” she shrieked, and promptly fainted away. I left that house with as little cere- mony as possible. COPMICLOOoX< (E@)