"You
look very much like a boy I and my friends met in Chicago. Do you know
the lad? His name is Charley Gamp."
"Charley Gamp!" exclaimed the man, and stared wildly at Dave. "Say, what
do you know about him?"
"Then you know him?" And now Dave was deeply interested.
"Do I know him! He is my son!"
"Your son? Then where did the name Gamp come from?"
"Gamp was his mother's name afore she married me. Tell me, is he safe?"
"Yes." And then Dave related how he and the others had fallen in with
Charley at the post-office.
"And Link Merwell was abusin' him--callin' him a thief!" cried Hank
Snogger, and his eyes commenced to blaze. "How did he dare! Why, Link
Merwell is a thief himself!"
"A thief!" echoed Dave.
"Yes. But let that pass now--I'll tell you later. Tell me of my boy, my
Charley," pleaded Hank Snogger.
Dave told all that he knew, and the man listened eagerly. Then Snogger
told something of his life's history, how he and his wife had quarreled
and how some neighbors had gotten them to separate. He had drifted to
the West, and remained there for three years. Then he had gone back to
look for his wife, but had found out that she was dead. He could get no
trace of his little boy, and finally had gone West again. At first he
had carried himself straight, but presently he had gotten in with the
wrong set and had drank and gambled, and left Mr.
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