"I should like very much to see him," answered Fogson grimly.
"He is in No. 12. Jim, show the gentleman up. He is sick."
Fogson nodded.
"I dare say," he added significantly. "I guess his acting made him sick."
"Yes, that's what I heard. Is he your son?"
"No, but I am his guardian."
Fogson was quite elated at so easily getting on the track of the fugitive.
"Sick!" he repeated to himself, as he ascended the staircase. "I guess he'll be sick before he gets through with me."
The servant knocked at No. 12, and a boy's voice was heard to say "Come in!"