CHAPTER XXIII
"Sweating" the Prisoner
It was now supper time, but nobody except the Canadian officer was hungry enough to think of eating. The latter, being a disinterested party, save as one commissioned with the duty of enforcing the law, had not diverted to a subject of absorbing interest the energies that ordinarily create a human appetite, hence he was normally hungry. Moreover, he was a man of good physical proportions and organic development, and consequently hunger with him meant a good plateful, or dissatisfaction.
This officer, who was introduced by Mr. Perry as Mr. Harrison Buckley, seemed to take no interest in his mission until he saw the evening meal in course of preparation in real kitchen-like manner; then he took the prisoner in charge and proceeded to "sweat" him in the approved style of a police captain's private office. The prisoner squirmed about for a time, successfully evading the inquisitorial probe aimed at him, but at last he "confessed" as to his name and address. He said that his name was Grant Howard and that his residence was at Gananoque, Ontario. Then a call to supper was issued and the composite aggregation of humans gathered around the table, which was never intended to accommodate quite so many guests.
However, with the exercise of due ingenuity, the supper was properly disposed of with the unexpected discovery of more appetite than was originally expected. Max Handy proved to be a healthy eater and the savory smell of juicy broiled steak from the Catwhisker's refrigerator, loosened even the nervous tension of Mr. Baker's worry over the fate of his son, so that he was able to do fair justice to the cooking of Cub, Hal, and Bud, who had full and joint charge of the preparation of the gastronomic spread.
After the meal the four boys cleared the table and washed and wiped the dishes, while the three men joined forces in the continued "sweating" of the prisoner. The latter adhered stubbornly to his earlier "confession" as to what he and his three companions had done with Mr. Baker's son, but failed to make a satisfactory statement as to his own business and the use to which he and his friends had put "their island possession". To the question as to the character of his business, he replied, after some hesitation:
"I work in a store."
"What kind of store?" asked Mr. Buckley.
"A grocery store."
"What do you do there?"