“Oh, no, I haven’t been to bed yet.”
Roy flushed as he made this answer, and at this moment the clock on the mantel chimed out twelve strokes.
“Are you in the habit of sitting up till midnight?” asked Mr. Keeler. “I suppose—”
He paused suddenly. His gaze had fallen on that book of criminals Jess had left lying open on the table. What appeared to be his own portrait stared back at him from the corner of the right hand page.
Roy’s heart almost stood still for a second as he saw that the whole thing was out. Mr. Keeler dropped into a chair by the table still keeping his eyes fixed on that picture.
Finally he raised them and looked at Roy.
“You have discovered the likeness then?” he said.
There was a depth of misery in his tone that went straight to the boy’s heart.
“Yes,” he said. “My oldest brother is a lawyer, you know. He brought this book home yesterday.”
“And you thought I was this man?” went on Mr. Keeler.