"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.