Jack groaned internally at the prospect before him.
“One question more,” he said, “will you tell me if my sister Ida is in this house?”
“Your sister Ida!” repeated the old man, surprised in his turn.
“Yes,” said Jack; believing, his astonishment feigned. “You needn't pretend that you don't know anything about her. I know that she is in your hands.”
“Then if you know so much,” said the other, shrugging his shoulders, “there is no need of asking.”
Jack was about to press the question, but the old man, anticipating him, pointed to a plate of food which he pushed in upon a shelf, just in front of the sliding door, and said: “Here's some supper for you. When you get ready to go to bed you can lie down on the sofa. Sorry we didn't know of your coming, or we would have got our best bed-chamber ready for you. Good-night, and pleasant dreams!”
Smiling disagreeably he slid to the door, bolted it, and disappeared, leaving Jack more depressed, if possible, than before.
CHAPTER XX. JACK IN CONFINEMENT.
THE anxiety of Mr. Abel Crump's family, when Jack failed to return at night, can be imagined. They feared that he had fallen among unscrupulous persons, of whom there is no lack in every large city, and that some ill had come to him. The baker instituted immediate inquiries, but was unsuccessful in obtaining any trace of his nephew. He resolved to delay as long as possible communicating the sad intelligence to his brother Timothy, who he knew would be quite (sic) overwhelwed by this double blow.