“I gave the man here a message for him,” said Bonbright.

“Is it on the level?  You know Lightener?”

“Yes,” said Bonbright, impatiently.

“Then what the devil did you stay here all night for?  Why didn’t you have him notified last night?  Looks darn fishy to me.”

“It will do no harm to deliver my message,” said Bonbright.

“Huh!...  Let him out.”  The doorman swung wide the barred door and the lieutenant motioned Bonbright out.  “Come and set in the office,” he said.  “Maybe you’d rather telephone yourself?”

“If I might,” said Bonbright, amazed at the potency of Lightener’s name to open cell doors and command the courtesy of the police.  It was his first encounter with Influence.

He was conducted into a small office; then the lieutenant retired discreetly and shut the door.  Bonbright made his call and asked for speech with Malcolm Lightener.

“Hello!...  Hello!” came Lightener’s gruff voice.  “What is it?”

“This is Bonbright Foote. ...  I’m locked up in the Central Station.  I wonder if you can’t help me somehow?”

There was a moment’s silence; then Bonbright heard a remark not intended for his ears but expressive of Lightener’s astonishment, “Well, I’m darned!” Then:  “I’ll be right there.  Hold the fort.”

Bonbright opened the door and said to the lieutenant, “Mr. Lightener’s on his way down.”

“Um!...  Make yourself comfortable.  Say, was that breakfast all right?  Find cigars in that top drawer.”  The magic of Influence!

In twenty minutes Lightener’s huge form pushed through the station door.  “Morning, Lieutenant.  Got a friend of mine here?”

“Didn’t know he was a friend of yours, Mr. Lightener.  He wouldn’t give his name, and never asked to have you notified till this morning. ...  He’s in my office there.”

Lightener strode into the room and shut the door.

“Well?” he demanded.

Breathlessly, almost without pause, Bonbright poured upon him an account of last night’s happenings, making no concealments, unconsciously giving Lightener glimpses into his heart that made the big man bend his brows ominously.  The boy did not explain; did not mention accusingly his father, but Lightener understood perfectly what the process of molding Bonbright was being subjected to.  He made no comment.

“I don’t want father to know this,” Bonbright said.  “If it can be kept out of the papers. ...  Father wouldn’t understand.  He’d feel I had disgraced the family.”

“Doggone the family,” snapped Lightener.  “Come on.”

Bonbright followed him out.

“May I take him along, Lieutenant?  I’ll fix it with the judge if necessary. ...  And say, happen to recognize him?”

“Never saw him before.”

“If any of the newspaper boys come snoopin’ around, you never saw me, either.  Much obliged, Lieutenant.”