or, The Silver Skates 343

they are mostly savages over there. If he could get the watch
to the Boomphoffens with the poor lad’s message, it would be
a most blessed thing.”

“Tut, vroww ! Why pester the good meester, and dying
men and women wanting him everywhere? How do ye
know ye have the true name?”

“T’m sure of it she replied. ‘They had a son Lam-
bert; and there’s an L for Lambert, and a B for Boomp-
hoffen, on the back; though, to be sure, there’s an odd J
too; but the meester can look for himself.”

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So saying, she drew forth the watch.

“LL. J. B!” cried Dr. Boekman, springing toward her.

Why attempt to describe the scene that followed? I need
only say that the lad’s message was delivered to his father at
last, — delivered while the great surgeon was sobbing like a
little child.

“Laurens, my Laurens!” he cried, gazing with yearning
eyes at the watch as he held it tenderly in his palm. “ Ah, if
I had but-known sooner! Laurens a homeless wanderer?
Great Heaven! he may be suffering, dying, at this moment !
Think, man, where is he? Where did my boy say the letter
must be sent?”

Raff shook his head sadly.

“Think!” implored the doctor. Surely the memory so
lately awakened through his aid could not refuse to serve him
in a moment like this.

“It is all gone, mynheer,” sighed Raff.

Hans, forgetting distinctions of rank and station, forgetting
everything but that his good friend was in trouble, threw his
arms around the doctor’s neck.

“T can find your son, mynheer. If alive, he is somewhere.