On returning to those paths which my childish feet so often trod--I
have just come from the West Indies where the climate is hotter than
that stove--it seems appropriate that I should assume my family name.
It is done. I am now Richard Ricker."
Abner nudged Strout again, who resented it, but Mr. Stiles remarked
in a whisper: "He's crazy--mad as a March hare."
Mr. Ricker did not hear his opinion of his sanity.
"My father's name was Benjamin, Martha was my mother, and I had a
brother William--that is, I had them all when I ran away to sea at
the age of seventeen years, ten months, and fifteen days. I always
remember my exact age for I wished to know just how long I had been
gone when I got back."
The villagers looked at the stranger with marked variations in
expression, but no one spoke until Abner remarked:
"I guess you've struck the right place. There's a young feller named
Billy Ricker that works for Mr. Strout here," and he pointed to that
gentleman. "Billy's father was named Bill, but he's dead; so's Ben
and Marthy. I know'd 'em all."
"I am glad to learn that I have a nephew in the land of the living.
Where is he?"
"He lives in Montrose, the next town north of us," said Mr. Strout.
"We have a branch store there an' Billy has charge of it."
"If he had some capital, I suppose he could become a partner,"
remarked Mr.
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