The face of the magnate went white with fear.
"Inspector," he cried brokenly, "you--don't mean--"
Burke answered with entire candor.
"I mean, Mr. Gilder, that you've got to make him talk. That's
what I want you to do, for all our sakes. Will you?"
"I'll do my best," the unhappy man replied, forlornly.
A minute later, Dick, in charge of an officer, was brought into
the room. He was pale, a little disheveled from his hours in a
cell. He still wore his evening clothes of the night before.
His face showed clearly the deepened lines, graven by the
suffering to which he had been subjected, but there was no
weakness in his expression. Instead, a new force that love and
sorrow had brought out in his character was plainly visible. The
strength of his nature was springing to full life under the
stimulus of the ordeal through which he was passing.
The father went forward quickly, and caught Dick's hands in a
mighty grip.
"My boy!" he murmured, huskily. Then, he made a great effort,
and controlled his emotion to some extent.
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