It all pointed to the arrest of her boy---to a long term in some jail or reformatory, most likely.
"Madame," asked the plain clothes man, stepping to the door, "will you give your full consent to my searching your son's room---in the presence of yourself and of Dr.Thornton, of course?
I am obliged to ask your permission, for, without a search warrant I have no other legal right than that which you may give me." "Of course you may search Richard's room," replied his mother, quickly.

"But you'll be wasting your time, for you'll find nothing incriminating in my boy's room." "Of course not, of course not," replied Hemingway, soothingly.
"That is what we most want---_not_ to find anything there.

Will you lead the way, please?
Prescott, you may come and see the search also." So the four filed into the little room that served Dick as sleeping apartment, study-room, den, library and all.

Hemingway moved quickly about, exploring the pockets of Dick's other clothing hanging there.

He delved into, under and behind all of the few books there.