“Exactly,” nodded Frank. “Suspicion has been turned on him because of his father. That is the plain truth. If it had not been known that his father had done a dishonest thing, no one might have suspected him. Am I right?”
“Perhaps so,” confessed Bart reluctantly.
“Don’t you know I’m right?”
“No, I don’t know it.”
“Well, don’t you think so?”
“I suppose there is something in it.”
Frank laughed shortly.
“You squirm in order to avoid giving me a direct answer, but you must confess that I have you cornered. Now, I want to say something more about Jim Hooker. I have picked him up because my heart was touched with pity by his forlorn and disconsolate appearance. I talked with him, and I found the poor fellow felt his situation keenly. I liked his face. I was sorry for him. I saw that a chap who was struggling hard to get an education and become an honored and respected man might be ruined and driven to the dogs at the very outset by being shunned and scorned. He must have a strong determination to have withstood the strain thus far. He may be tottering on the brink even now, and it is possible that all he needs is the helping hand of a true friend to keep him from going over. My hand has been held out to him, and once Frank Merriwell has offered his hand to another he never withdraws it till that person has proved himself thoroughly and utterly unworthy.”
Bart knew this was true, and he felt like applauding Frank. Then came another thought.
“They say he associates with tough characters in the lowest dives of the city.”