"We both shall be very glad," went on Mr. Tolman firmly, "to go with you to headquarters and straighten the matter out."
"There may be no need of that, sir," Donovan responded with a pleasant smile. "If we can just talk the affair over in a satisfactory way—"
"Suppose you come upstairs to our room," suggested Mr. Tolman. "That will give us more quiet and privacy. Will that be agreeable to you?"
"Perfectly."
As the three walked toward the elevator Steve glanced with trepidation at the plain-clothes man.
The boy knew he had done nothing wrong; but would he be able to convince the detective of the truth of his story? He was thoroughly frightened and wondered whether his father was also alarmed.
If, however, Mr. Tolman was worried he at least did not show it. Instead he courteously led the way from the elevator down the dim corridor and unlocked the door of Number 379.
"Come in, Mr. Donovan," he said cordially. "Here is a chair and a cigar. Now, son, tell us the story of this troublesome pocketbook from beginning to end."
In a trembling voice Stephen began his tale. He spoke slowly, uncertainly, for he was well scared. Gradually, however, he forgot his agitation and his voice became more positive. He recounted the details of the omnibus ride with great care, adding ingenuously when he came to the termination of the narrative:
"And I hoped the man's name would be inside the pocketbook because I liked him very much and wanted to return to him what he had lost."