"What's wanted?" growled the boy.
"Is your father in the house?"
"I don't know, nor don't care," was responded in the same ungracious manner.
"Someone bring him into the bar-room, and we'll see if we can't make him care a little."
The suggestion was no sooner made, than two men glided behind the bar, and passed into the room from whence the voice of Frank had issued. A moment after they reappeared, each grasping an arm of the boy, and bearing him like a weak child between them. He looked thoroughly frightened at this unlooked-for invasion of his liberty.
"See here, young man." One of the leading spirits of the crowd addressed him, as soon as he was brought in front of the counter. "If you wish to keep out of trouble, answer our questions at once, and to the point. We are in no mood for trifling. Where's your father?"
"Somewhere about the house, I believe," Frank replied, in an humble tone. He was no little scared at the summary manner with which he had been treated.
"How long since you saw him?"
"Not long ago."
"Ten minutes."