"I hate to be dogging your footsteps, sir, in this fashion," Mr. Donovan answered, with obvious sincerity. "Still, I—"
"You have your orders, no doubt."
"Well, yes, sir," admitted the plain-clothes man with reluctance. "I have."
"You were to keep your eye on us until the pocketbook reached its owner."
"That's about it, sir. Not that I personally have the least suspicion that a gentleman like you would—"
"That is all right, my man. I perfectly understand your position," Mr. Tolman cut in. "After all, you have your duty to do and business is business. We'll just telephone Mr. Ackerman that we are coming so that we shall be sure of catching him, and then we will go right up there."
"Very well, sir."
Stephen's father started toward the telephone and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, paused and turned.
"Steve," he said, "I believe you are the person to communicate with Mr. Ackerman. Call him up and tell him you have found his purse and that you and your father would like to come up to his house, if it will be convenient, and return it."
"All right, Dad."