"That is what I think," answered Joe. "I know the name of the detective who arrested him, as well as the agency to which the detective belongs. It's Wilcox's, two-thirty-four Bank street, and there's where we must go the first thing in the morning."
"Great Scott!" cried Arthur. "Can't we do anything for Roy before morning? Must he be put in a cell and—"
"By no means," exclaimed Rowe. "Your friend will fare as well at my home as you will here at a hotel. Beyond a doubt my guardian's steam yacht was in waiting at one of the piers along the river side, and Roy is probably half way to the island by this time. Of course the detective will stay with him till he gets there, for fear that Roy will jump overboard or do some other desperate thing to escape from Willis."
"Who is Willis?"
"He is my guardian's superintendent and my jailer. At least, that is what I call him, although he is very friendly to me, and has seldom interfered with me. When I ran away two years ago, he followed me up and put the
