se.

"Well, what would you do, Frank?" asked Jimmy.

"I'd take Dick to a doctor."

"A doctor? Why, I'm not sick!" exclaimed Dick.

"No, I suppose not. But I read of a case the other day of a man who
was hit on the head and he forgot everything he ever knew. They took
him to a hospital, operated on him, and his memory came back to him."

"I wonder if mine would?" asked Dick, with a new look of hope on his
face.

"There's nothing like trying," said Frank. "Suppose we ask the
superintendent, Mr. Snowden?"

"That's a good idea," came from Jimmy, who was sitting in a corner of
the room.

This they did, and Mr. Snowden agreed to have a physician who was a
friend of his look at Dick. The superintendent of the lodging-house
agreed, in a measure, with Frank that perhaps there might be some
injury to Dick's head because of the blow, which, when the resulting
depression on the skull was removed, would bring back his memory.

A few days later the doctor examined Dick. The boy waited anxiously
for the verdict.

"I am sorry," said the doctor, "but I can do nothing for you. There is
no special injury to the head. The skull was not broken by whatever,
or whoever, it was that hit you. You suffered some shock, and that
took away your memory. Your mind now is as good as it was before the
accident, except that everything in the past is blotted out."

"And will I never remember it again?" asked Dick.

"I would not say that. The chances are that some day it will all come
back to you with a rush. Some forgotten incident will recall it all to
you. It may be a slight thing--the hearing of some forgotten name--the
seeing of some forgotten face--and then you may remember who you are
and where you lived."

"Oh, I hope it comes soon," said poor Dick. "I am tired of all this
uncertainty."

"Never mind," consoled Jimmy. "I'll stick by you to the last."

CHAPTER XVII

AN OFFER OF A STAND

The disappointment following the doctor's verdict was keen for Dick.
He had hoped that something might be done to aid him, but he found the
only thing he could do was to wait, and this was very tedious.

"And maybe it will never happen," he said to Jimmy, that night in their
room.

"Yes, it will," declared his partner, with more conviction that he
felt. "You'll remember who you are some day, I'm certain."

"Perhaps--when it's too late."

"Well, don't think any more about it," advised Jimmy. "I heard some
news to-day