Frank and Joe led him down through the hallway and along a corridor that led to a wing of the mansion, where the Robinson family had rooms. There, in a neat, but sparsely furnished apartment, they found Mrs. Robinson, a gentle, kindly-faced woman, somewhat lame, who was sitting anxiously in a chair by the window. Her two daughters, Paula and Tessie, twins, were by her side, and all looked up in expectation as the lads came in.

“What news, son?” asked Mrs. Robinson bravely, after she had greeted the Hardy boys.

“Bad, mother.”

“They’re not⁠—they’re not⁠—arresting him?” cried Paula, springing forward.

Perry nodded, dumbly.