He pledged Bart to secrecy, and, on the following day, Merry took pains to hunt Hooker up. Of course, Jim was confused and abashed. He wondered how Frank had happened to be in such a quarter. Frank told him.
“Hooker,” he said, “I am going to tell you just what I did last night, and then, if you are too angry to forgive me, you can tell me what you think of me. I am heartily ashamed of the whole affair, and I ask your pardon.”
“Ask my pardon?” gasped Hooker. “What for?”
“I’ll tell you,” and then Merry related the whole story, excepting that he took all the blame on his own shoulders, never once mentioning that Hodge had led him into the piece of detective work.
Hooker listened to the end, his face betraying his changing emotions.
“There,” said Frank, at last, “that’s the whole of it. Now you know why I happened to be in that dive on the water-front. You know that, for all of my protestations of absolute friendship, I did not trust you fully. I am ashamed of it all, and I beg your pardon.”
“I don’t wonder that you did not trust me,” said Hooker. “Nobody seems to do that!”
The words cut Frank to the quick.
“Yet I told you that I did.”
“Well, you wanted to make sure that I was on the level. It’s all right. Anybody in your place would have done the same. The man that I picked up was my father,” he went on, his face flushing and then turning deathly pale. “He was an honest man till convicted of a crime he never committed. When he came out of prison the brand of a criminal was on him, and he found himself regarded with distrust by everybody. Nobody offered him a helping hand, and he could not obtain any position of trust. Then he took to drink and went to the bad. I don’t believe he ever did anything very bad, but he is a fallen man now. He cares for nothing but drink, drink, drink. At times he is ashamed of himself and tries to do better, but it is too late. At other times, when hard up, he becomes desperate. He has found that I am here at Yale, and he has come here that he may be near me. At times he threatens to come here to the campus and show himself if I do not furnish him money. When he is in his cups, I cannot reason with him. I have to furnish him with money. Last night I had no money. I knew he would be expecting me Saturday night, and I knew where I might find him. I left college in my regular clothes and changed them for a wretched suit at the Jew’s store, so that I might be disguised when I went there. A man who is dressed in a decent manner attracts attention there. That was my reason for changing my clothes. As I said, I had no money, not having received any from my aunt on Saturday, as usual. He would not listen, and, as a last resort, in order to keep him silent, I gave him my watch to pawn. That is all.”