[_This Story began in No. 2._] ANDY FLETCHER, the Story of a Boy with a Purpose. by JOHN RUSSELL CORYELL, Author of "Cast Adrift; or, Ned Carroll's Promise," etc. CHAPTER IX. Police Headquarters. "Who are you? What are you talking about?" demanded one of the detectives of Andy, after the latter had stepped forward with his exclamation that it was not the little boy. A curiously malevolent expression crossed the face of the man with the child as he bent his eyes on Andy; but he did not speak to him then, but rather to the crowd that had quickly gathered, "What does all this mean? Why am I stopped in this way? Is there a policeman here? Call a policeman, somebody, please. Upon my word--a pretty pass this, that a man may be molested in a public place in such a fashion!" Mr. Roberts was well dressed and his manner was composed and even dignified, so that the sympathy of the spectators was with him at once, until one of the detectives threw back his coat and showed his badge, when there was a murmur of wonder, and one of them asked: "What's he done?" Just at this point the policeman came hurrying up. The detective in charge saw him and showed him his badge, and then said to him: "Collar the kid," pointing to Andy, "and fetch him along to the office up here. Are you a passenger on the steamer?" he asked of his prisoner. "No; but I warn you that you will find yourself in trouble if you do not release me at once. I can easily see that there is a conspiracy among you to give me trouble. That boy there, whose father is a convict, as I happen to know, is at the bottom of it, I suppose. As for this child here, he is the son of a friend, and I have brought him here to see the departure of the steamer. If, after this explanation, you still persist in detaining me, it shall be at your peril." "If I've made a mistake, I'm sorry," said the detective; "but I'm doing no more than my duty in holding you. I never saw that boy before. I don't know what he knows of the matter." "You're looking for Regy Thorne, aren't you?" said Andy, who had confined himself to listening and thinking until now. "What if we are?" replied the non-committal detective. "So am I, that's all," answered Andy, giving his enemy a bold glance of defiance in return for the black looks cast upon him. They had reached the wharf office by this time, and were readily admitted by the wharfinger and given a place at the back end. "Oho!" said the detective, "so you are after him, too, are you? How do you come to know anything about it?" "I live in Lakeville, and I left there last night on purpose to come here and look for Regy. I was after the reward." "Do you know this gentleman?" And he pointed to the man Andy had such good cause to know.