the Porters resided with the jeweler's family and old Caspar Potts.
As they passed through the main street of Crumville—now built up a great deal more than when Dave had first known it—many persons bowed and smiled to all in the car. Everybody knew the Porters and liked them, and the fact that Dave had once been an inmate of the local poorhouse was almost forgotten.
To the youth himself the ride was full of interest. As he sat back in the comfortable seat of the automobile he could not help but think of the many changes that had taken place since he had been found wandering along the railroad tracks, alone and hungry. He had found a father, an uncle, and a sister, and he had made many warm friends, including Jessie Wadsworth, to him the dearest girl in all the world. Certainly he had much to be grateful for,—and he was grateful from the bottom of his heart.
A few minutes of riding, after leaving the center of the town, brought them within sight of the Wadsworth residence, a fine mansion set back from the roadway, with beautiful trees and shrubbery surrounding it. Down at the great gateway stood Professor Potts, now white-haired and somewhat bent, but with a kindly smile of welcome on his face. Dave waved his hat and the old gentleman bowed with old-fashioned courtesy.
