Chapter XVII: An Advertisement

When Frank Mansfield awoke next morning he found Detective Hook standing by his side.

Indeed, it was the pressure of the detective's hand upon his forehead that had called him from sleep.

"Good-morning, my boy," he said, pleasantly. "It's time you were stirring, if you intend taking breakfast with me."

Frank sprang off of the lounge and began putting on his clothes.

"I could sleep all day, I think," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I never felt so sleepy in my life."

"No wonder, after the strain you have been under for the last forty-eight hours. That was one reason why I insisted upon your coming home with me. I want you to get thoroughly rested and refreshed; then you will be able to show what you are made of in working out our scheme. That hole in the wall may do well enough for newsboys and bootblacks, but it is no place for a boy like you."

"It served me a good turn the other night, all the same."

"I don't dispute that. By the way, how did you manage to get into the vault that night? Through the iron door on the New Church street side?"

"Yes, that was the way."

"I thought as much. I took a good look at the place and its surroundings before I entered. I thought I had sized it up pretty well."

"But how did you come to guess the entrance lay beneath that particular tombstone?" asked Frank, stooping to tie his shoes. "I didn't know myself where it was, although I knew there was some way of getting in from above."

The detective smiled.

"If I told you all I knew," he replied, pleasantly, "why, then you'd know as much as I do myself, and would have no further use for my services. No, no, young man, I am working for money. Under the will of your grandfather you are justly entitled to a large fortune, which through your own folly and the machinations of that man Callister has come mighty near slipping through your hands, if it has not already done so. My work now is to help you to the recovery of this fortune. Once you are in possession of it, I shall expect to be paid. Then ask me for my secrets, and I may tell you; meanwhile, we will see what kind of a breakfast my landlady has sent us up this morning, talk matters over together, and decide what is the first step to take."

He led the way into the room immediately behind the sleeping chamber, where a comfortable breakfast for two was already spread.

"I prefer to take my meals in private," said the detective, proceeding to help Frank to beefsteak, rolls, coffee and eggs. "It avoids all gossip among the boarders as to my movements and enables me to come and go as I please without exciting comment from any one, which is just the sort of an arrangement I need. Make yourself at home; if you don't see what you want, ask for it. There are the morning papers for you if you want to read."

Frank appropriated one paper, the detective taking another.

The first thing that struck the boy's eye was a full account of the robbery of the Webster Bank and the reward offered by the bank officials for his own arrest.

And over his mind there crept a feeling of renewed shame for the wretched position into which he had been led by his own folly.

He inwardly resolved that once out of this scrape--once clear before the world--that never, so long as he lived, should a drop of liquor pass his lips again.

"The papers seem to be making quite a stir about you, don't they?" said the detective, laying down the one he had been reading, and plying his knife and fork. "Wouldn't there be a fine kick-up if they knew I had you concealed here?"

"I suppose there would. I am entirely in your power, Mr. Hook. You can handle me as you please."

"Don't say power, Frank. I don't like the word. I know you to be innocent of any intention to rob the bank. Were it not so, I should give you up at once."

"And claim the reward?"

"Most assuredly. That's the way I earn my living; but I have no such intention. I feel interested in your case, and would like to see you righted, if I can. Besides, it will pay me better to help you recover the money than to choose any other course. I make no secret of my motives. They are purely mercenary, you see."

"I am just as much obliged to you, all the same."

"You have reasons to be. The ordinary detective would have marched you off to the station-house. False witnesses would have been brought against you beyond a doubt; you would have been convicted, and under the provisions of your grandfather's will could never have inherited a cent."

"I don't seem likely to in any case, now that the parchment describing the hiding-place of his buried money is lost."

"Don't be too sure. I have a feeling that we shall yet succeed in finding that parchment. But now for a question or two. How came those boys--what do they call themselves--to lend you a helping hand?"

"They call themselves the 'Bats in the Wall.' Barney has been in the habit of blacking my boots at the bank. That was the reason he gave for helping me as he did."

"'Bats in the Wall,' eh? A good name. That accounts for the bat-like cry Officer Schneider heard. As for the reason, that don't amount to anything. Depend upon it, these boys would never had let you into their secret for any such reason as that."

"What do you think was the reason?"

"Blest if I know. If I did, I am certain that I would have the key to much that is now mysterious about this strange affair. What do you know about this Jerry Buck?"

"Nothing at all, except meeting him in the wall as I did."

"There is something that boy is keeping back," said the detective, musingly. "Now what is it? That's the question. Have you noticed, Frank, how much he resembles you?"

"No, I'm sure, I haven't. Do you mean to say he looks like me?"

"Enough like you to be your twin brother. I never saw a more marked resemblance in my life. But that is always the way. A man can rarely see a resemblance to himself in the face of any one else."

"Well, now you speak of it, I can see some points in which we are alike. His hair is the color of mine; his eyes are not unlike----"

"Eyes, nose, mouth, everything," replied the detective, quickly. "But never mind that now. Tell me something of your own past--something concerning that mother of yours."

Tears gathered in the boy's eyes.

"It is a sad, sad story, Mr. Hook," he replied, brokenly. "After my father's misfortunes she lost her reason, as I have already told you. Mr. Callister, who had charge of our affairs, had her removed to a private asylum, where she has been most of the time ever since."

"What asylum was it?"

"Dr. Belding's, St. Nicholas avenue and 150th street, up near the Fort Washington road."

"I know the locality. You say you went there yesterday, and they told you she had escaped."

"Yes. She disappeared one night, some three weeks ago."

"And you were not informed?"

"No. Mr. Callister had the matter in charge. I visited the asylum from time to time, but they would rarely allow me to see my mother, and never at any time leave us alone."

"Was she very bad?"

"Well, pretty bad at times. She was particularly violent in the presence of Mr. Callister."

"Humph!" muttered the detective, "I'm not much surprised at that."

"She always had the idea that he was the cause of my father's misfortunes, though I'm sure I don't know why."

For a few moments the detective maintained silence.

"What was the name of your mother before your father married her, Frank?" he asked at length.

"Helen Dupont."

"Where was she from?"

"She was born in the upper part of New York, in what was then the village of Fort Washington."

"Has she any relatives?"

"I don't know. I never heard her speak of her past life at all."

"Then you have no idea why she should seek such quarters as that house in the rear of the Catherine Market, where we found her?"

"Not the slightest, Mr. Hook. When I first saw her in the street on that terrible night I never was more surprised in my life. I ought not to have left her even for a moment. I never would have done so had I been myself."

"There, there. Don't think anything more about it," said the detective, kindly, seeing that Frank could no longer restrain the tears. "Whisky makes fools of us all, my boy. Finish your breakfast and we'll talk about these matters later on."

He resumed the paper, leaving Frank to his own bitter thoughts.

For the space of a few moments neither spoke.

Suddenly, with an exclamation of surprise and satisfaction, Caleb Hook brought his hand down upon the table with a thump which made the dishes rattle.

"The very thing!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "Frank Mansfield, fate is playing into our hands."

He passed over the paper to Frank, with one finger pressed upon the advertising columns.

"Read that," he said briefly, "and tell me what you think of it."

It was an advertisement under the head of "Clerks Wanted."

This was the way it read:

"WANTED--A young man for a responsible position in a broker's office.
One familiar with a general stock brokerage business preferred. Apply
to Elijah Callister, Room 62, ---- Building, Broad street."

"What do you think of it?" asked the detective.

"It's Mr. Callister, certainly; but I don't see how it concerns me?"

"You don't? What we want in this little scheme of ours more than anything else is to set a watch on this man; to trace out his movements, to learn who his associates are, and what interest he has with bank burglars and thieves, such as the man in whose company you saw him at the Catherine Market yesterday morning."

"Do you propose to send one of your men to apply for the place?"

"One of my men! Why, I mean that you shall apply for it, and get it, too."

Frank laughed.

"He'd know me at a glance," he said.

"Would he? We'll see about that. After a certain costumer with whom I am acquainted is through with you I don't think he would. But, supposing you were so effectually disguised that he could never recognize you, do you think you could fill the position and play your part?"

"Yes, I'm sure I could. At all events I'm not afraid to try."

"Good! That's the way to talk. I've been studying you closely, my boy, and feel sure that you could carry the thing through as well as any actor living."

"Always providing that I can get the place. I have no references, you know."

"That is easily fixed. The president of the Stock Exchange is a cousin of mine. You shall apply for that position this very morning with a letter from him. Do you understand the duties of such a position well enough to fill it?"

"Oh, perfectly. I learned all that in the bank."

"Then come with me at once," exclaimed Detective Hook, springing to his feet. "If you want to clear your name before the world--if you want to avenge the wrong done by that man Callister to you and yours--embrace this opportunity which fate has thrown in your path, and never rest until you have read his secrets through and through."