"Huh!" grunted the sergeant, as he wrote the name, "I thought from your looks you would say Jones of nowhere. What is your residence?"
"New Haven."
"Have you got anything to say for yourself?"
"Not at present."
The sergeant looked surprised, and hesitated a moment before he asked a number of other questions.
They were such questions as are always put to prisoners concerning their age, their reasons for being in the city, and their own account of what had happened.
Frank gave his age, but to the other questions refused to reply. Accordingly the sergeant ordered both him and Mellor to be searched, and after a vain attempt to get any information out of Mellor, both were locked up.
A considerable crowd had collected in the main room of the station house during this, and Frank remained quietly in his cell until he felt certain that all the curiosity seekers had gone out.
Then he called to a doorman and asked if he might speak to the sergeant or the captain. It took a little persuasion to get permission to do this, but Frank got it finally, and was taken upstairs again.
The main room of the station was then deserted by all except the doorman and the sergeant. The latter looked at the young prisoner inquiringly.