rp little exclamation, for David Prentiss,
although he seemed to slumber between the sheets, wore a suit of black
clothes and a pair of black shoes, and beside him a black felt hat was
crumpled!

"Maybe that cop wasn't the idiot he seemed, eh?" Johnson Boller asked.

"I don't understand it," Anthony said angrily. "I--David!"

The boy merely sighed in his sleep and turned on his back.

"_David!_" Johnson Boller snapped, thrusting a hard forefinger directly
into the pit of David's stomach.

"Good gracious!" gasped David Prentiss, sitting up and staring about
with eyes wide open. "What--I must have been asleep and----"

Anthony's gaze was growing keener and angrier by the second.

"Never mind that artistic amazement, David," he said sourly. "What were
you trying to do?"

"Trying?" echoed David. "To do?"

"Those are Wilkins's clothes. Where did you get them?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do!" Anthony snapped. "You must have found them in his room.
Well?"

David gazed up at him with the same unfathomable look that had so
disturbed Johnson Boller in the taxicab.

"Very well--I did find them in his room," he said. "I put them on
because I couldn't find my own clothes, and I--I wanted to get to
father."

"Yes, and now you're going to father!" Johnson Boller said decisively.
"Better let him go, Anthony."

David was on his feet with one swing.

"That's the only thing to do with me," he said heartily. "I'm too much
of a nuisance to keep around, Mr. Fry; I'm so worried about father that
I can't think of anything else. So now I'll go and----"

"So now you'll stay right here!" Anthony said fiercely.

"Why?" Boller asked.

"Because I've undertaken to show this kid the opportunity of his
lifetime, and I'll drive it into his infernal little skull if I have to
chloroform him and have a surgeon drill a hole to let it through!" Mr.
Fry said quite irresponsibly.

David collapsed hopelessly on the edge of the bed.

"I--I should think you'd be so out of patience with me----" he began
mournfully.

"I am, but I'm not going to drop the job on that account," Anthony said
grimly. "Shed those clothes, David."

"I'll shed 'em when you go out," David said monotonously. "I--I'd rather
undress alone."

Johnson Boller's plump hands were on his plump hips and he surveyed his
old friend darkly.

"Are you actually going to keep the youngster here against his will?" he
demanded.

"I am!" snapped Anthony Fry.

Johnson Bol