He led the way into the room immediately behind the sleeping chamber, where a comfortable breakfast for two was already spread.
"I prefer to take my meals in private," said the detective, proceeding to help Frank to beefsteak, rolls, coffee and eggs. "It avoids all gossip among the boarders as to my movements and enables me to come and go as I please without exciting comment from any one, which is just the sort of an arrangement I need. Make yourself at home; if you don't see what you want, ask for it. There are the morning papers for you if you want to read."
Frank appropriated one paper, the detective taking another.
The first thing that struck the boy's eye was a full account of the robbery of the Webster Bank and the reward offered by the bank officials for his own arrest.
And over his mind there crept a feeling of renewed shame for the wretched position into which he had been led by his own folly.
He inwardly resolved that once out of this scrape—once clear before the world—that never, so long as he lived, should a drop of liquor pass his lips again.
"The papers seem to be making quite a stir about you, don't they?" said the detective, laying down the one he had been reading, and plying his knife and fork. "Wouldn't there be a fine kick-up if they knew I had you concealed here?"
"I suppose there would. I am entirely in your power, Mr. Hook. You can handle me as you please."
"Don't say power, Frank. I don't like the word. I know you to be innocent of any intention to rob the bank. Were it not so, I should give you up at once."
"And claim the reward?"