"There is something that boy is keeping back," said the detective, musingly. "Now what is it? That's the question. Have you noticed, Frank, how much he resembles you?"
"No, I'm sure, I haven't. Do you mean to say he looks like me?"
"Enough like you to be your twin brother. I never saw a more marked resemblance in my life. But that is always the way. A man can rarely see a resemblance to himself in the face of any one else."
"Well, now you speak of it, I can see some points in which we are alike. His hair is the color of mine; his eyes are not unlike——"
"Eyes, nose, mouth, everything," replied the detective, quickly. "But never mind that now. Tell me something of your own past—something concerning that mother of yours."
Tears gathered in the boy's eyes.
"It is a sad, sad story, Mr. Hook," he replied, brokenly. "After my father's misfortunes she lost her reason, as I have already told you. Mr. Callister, who had charge of our affairs, had her removed to a private asylum, where she has been most of the time ever since."
"What asylum was it?"
"Dr. Belding's, St. Nicholas avenue and 150th street, up near the Fort Washington road."
"I know the locality. You say you went there yesterday, and they told you she had escaped."