He glared around the roomy police office, but it was only tenanted by policemen attending to various books or chatting quietly across a huge counter.
His surly attitude did not diminish the inspector's kindliness.
"Don't be so doubtful on that point, Mason. Have you no children?"
Something in the police officer's eyes gave the man a clew. His swarthy face flushed and his hands clinched.
"Yes," he said, huskily. "I left two boys. Their mother died. They were lost. I have looked for them everywhere."
Inspector Bradley pointed to a door.
"Go into that room," he said, quietly, "and you will find them. They are waiting there for you."
Mason crossed the sanded floor like one walking in his sleep. He experienced no emotion. He was a man stunned for the nonce.
He opened the door of the waiting room, and entered cautiously. He might have expected a hoax, a jest, from his attitude.
Two stalwart young men were standing there talking. Their chat ceased as he appeared. For an appreciable time father and sons looked at each other with the curiosity of strangers.