Part 17 (1/2)

”That is possible,” said the clerk, who was favorably impressed by Fred's manner.

”We must not jump at conclusions,” said the detective warily. ”I shall feel justified in detaining the boy after what I have found.”

”You won't take me to the station house?” said Fred nervously.

”No; it will answer the purpose if you are locked up in this room--for the present.”

”Then,” said Fred, turning to the clerk, ”I shall be much obliged if you will send me up some breakfast.”

”It shall be done.”

Within half an hour Fred was discussing a beefsteak and fried potatoes with hearty enjoyment. It takes a good deal to spoil the appet.i.te of a healthy boy of seventeen.

CHAPTER XII.

FRED AS A PRISONER.

After breakfast Fred became restless. It was tantalizing to be so near the Falls, and yet to be locked up, and prevented from seeing them. Of course it would all come right in time, but it was hard to bear the suspense and confinement. Hunting round the room he found a juvenile book, and sitting down at the window read it. It helped to while away the time till twelve o'clock. He had scarcely read the last page when he heard the key turning in the lock outside. The door opened and two persons appeared at the entrance. One was the clerk the other a boy, rather short, with a bright, attractive face.

”I thought you might like company,” said the clerk in a friendly manner. ”This is my young cousin, Frank Hamblin, who will remain with yon for a while.”

”I am glad to see you, Frank,” said Fred offering his hand. ”You are very kind to come and see a bold, bad burglar.”

”You don't look much like it,” said Frank, laughing. ”Still appearances are deceitful.”

”I don't think I look wicked,” said Fred meditatively, as he glanced at his reflection in a small mirror that hung over the washstand. ”Yet it appears that I have broken into a gentleman's house in Elmira, and stolen a gold watch and chain and some government bonds.”

”How could you do it?” asked Frank with much seriousness. ”So young and yet so wicked!”

”That's the question that puzzles me,” said Fred. ”How could I do it when at the time the burglary was committed I was speeding over the Erie road at the rate of thirty miles an hour?”

”Can you prove this?” asked Frank eagerly.

”Certainly I could, if the conductor or brakeman of my car were here.”

”Where are they?”

”Probably on their way back to New York.”

”Do you live there?”

”Yes.”

”I have always wanted to see the city of New York. It must be a gay place.”

”You are right there, Frank. Whenever you do come, just inquire for Fred Fenton, and I will show you round. There is my address.”

”Thank you! I should like it ever so much. Have you ever been here before?”