Larry Dexter, Reporter/Chapter 35

, who had fretted all day, cried so much the second night of his captivity that Peter and Noddy were much alarmed. They tried their best to comfort the lad, but he continued to weep, and demanded to be taken to his mother and Larry.

“Can't you amuse him in some way?” the blue-handed man asked of Peter.

“I've done my best,” replied the former copy boy. “He's homesick, that's what's the matter.”

“And small blame to him,” put in Noddy. “It's a bad business all around, and I'm worried over how we'll come out of it. If the kid keeps on crying there'll be talk in the neighborhood, and that may lead to an investigation. Besides he'll make himself sick, and we'll have to send for a doctor. That would give the game away.”

“We can get a Chink doctor,” spoke Peter.

“Yes, and have him give the kid some ground-up snails, or pieces of birds' nests,” exclaimed Noddy. “No, sir, no Chinese quack is going to monkey with the lad. If we have to have a doctor we'll get a good one, even though it spoils the game. I'm not going to be responsible for the lad's taking a bad turn, and maybe dying.”

“Do you think there's any danger?” asked Peter, who was beginning to wish he had never had anything to do with the gang.

“You can never tell what kids are going to do. Wait, I'll try to tell him a story. I used to be quite a hand at it when—when my youngster was alive,” and Noddy gulped down a hard lump in his throat. Bad as he was, he still had a tender spot in his heart for his dead child.

“Come on, Jimmy,” the blue-handed man said to the captive. “I'm going to tell you about a bear.”

“Can't you tell me about a giant?” demanded the lad.

“Well, I guess so,” and then Noddy related a tale about a big giant who used to keep his captives in a terrible castle.

“You're a sort of giant, ain't you?” asked Jimmy of Noddy.

“No. What makes you ask that?”

“Because you've got hands like Blue Beard, and you keep me here, and won't let me go home.”

“No, I'm not quite as bad as that,” said Noddy, “but I'm bad enough, the land knows. I'd let you go home if I could. Maybe we can, to-morrow or next day. I wish Larry would give in to the gang, or else come here and take the kid,” the blue-handed man muttered, in a low tone.

It required several stories before Jimmy could be comforted, and made to forget his troubles. He fell asleep under the influence of a fine big Chinese drum that the blue-handed man promised would be given him the next day.

“Well, I'm glad he's in slumberland,” remarked Noddy, as he covered Jimmy up in bed. “I couldn't stand this very long.”

That evening several members of the gang came in, and Noddy laid the case before them.

“It's all right for you fellows,” he said, “but you don't have to stay here all day and amuse the kid, and keep him from crying for his mother. If I only had to go out and do things the way you do I wouldn't mind it.”

“Well, you'll have to stay shut up for a while longer, on account of your hands,” remarked Perkins. “It can't be very long now. I wouldn't wonder but there'd be a personal in to-morrow morning's papers, saying Larry and his mother had agreed to sign the deed. That will end the whole matter.”

“Well, I only hope it does,” growled Noddy. “It's the last trick of this kind you get me into.”

“Brace up!” exclaimed Perkins. “You're a little down in the mouth now. When you get your share out of the deal you'll be satisfied. I guess the game is almost up now. There should have been a personal in before this.” But fate had so ordered that the one Larry and Mr. Newton inserted was not seen.

“Suppose you don't hear from Larry?” asked Noddy.

“If we don't inside of three days,” answered Perkins, “we're going ahead on a brand-new plan.”

“What is it?”

“We'll simply condemn the land, and then we'll get it for almost nothing. Only that process is a little slow, and we're in a hurry. Snyder and Beacham had a talk on the matter somewhere to-day, I understand, and decided the thing could be kept secret no longer. The news will be out in a week at the most, so whatever is done must be done quickly.”

The men talked over various other matters, and then, as the hour was growing late, they departed, leaving Peter and Noddy in charge of Jimmy.

“Better turn in,” advised the blue-handed man to Peter.

“Guess I will,” said the former copy boy. “I'm going to get up early, and get a morning paper to see if Larry has put a personal in.”

While he was getting ready for bed Noddy went in to look at Jimmy. He found the lad's face wet with tears.

“Poor little chap,” remarked Noddy. “I wish I was out of this game.”

Then he, too, went to bed, and there was silence in the headquarters of the Rising Sun gang, broken only by the breathing of the sleepers. Outside the hum and confusion of Chinatown went on in the semi-darkness.

Meanwhile Larry and Mr. Newton had been planning away. They had told each other their experiences, and Mr. Newton was glad to learn that Larry had located the headquarters of the gang.

“I can't understand the man from the pawn-shop going in there, however,” commented the older reporter. “He may be mixed up with the gang, but it hardly seems possible that the jewel robbers, the safe-crackers, and the kidnappers are all members of one organization. However, if it's so, so much the better.”

“Why?”

“Because we'll bag them all at once, and kill two or three birds with one stone. Now let's see what we'd better do first.”

“Did you ever hear of the Rising Sun gang,” asked Larry.

“Many times. They're about as bad as any crowd that infests New York.”

“Why not get a lot of police officers, and raid the place?” suggested Larry.

“It would be all right if we could guard every entrance,” said Mr. Newton. “But they have half a dozen, and they'd be sure to escape through one or the other.”

“How are you going to do it, then?”

“I think we'll resort to a little strategy,” said the older reporter. “We'll insert another personal, directed to the blue-handed man, asking where we can go to sign the deed. They evidently missed that first one. It was put in before they expected it.”

“But do you really want me to sign the deed?” asked Larry.

“Not for the world. We'll simply ask them where we can meet them to sign it. We're not promising to do what they want. I'll write the advertisement out now, and we can put it in all the morning papers.”

“After that, what?”

“We'll wait for an answer, and then we'll be guided by what occurs next.”

So the advertisement, carefully worded, was prepared, and Mr. Newton took it to an agent who made a business of inserting notices in all the New York papers.

When this had been done it was evening, and, as there seemed to be little chance of accomplishing anything more that night, Mr. Newton advised Larry to go to bed and get a good night's sleep.

“Perhaps I'd better stay around in the neighborhood of the gang's headquarters,” suggested Larry. “They might take Jimmy away during the night.”

“Not much danger of that,” replied Mr. Newton. “If they wanted to smuggle him away, all the watching you could do would not stop it. The best way is to let them think they're safe, and that we know nothing about them. They probably will do nothing for a few more days.”

So the same night that Jimmy, in Noddy's room, cried himself to sleep, Larry went to bed in his own home, his head full of thoughts of the rescue he hoped would soon be accomplished.

The next morning Peter went out early, and got several papers. He and Noddy carefully scanned the personal columns, and among the first items that met their eyes was the advertisement Larry and Mr. Newton had inserted.

“Here it is!” cried Noddy. “He's come to terms at last. I'm glad of it, for I want to see the kid taken home. Now, Peter, you hurry off, and tell as many members of our society as you can find to come here at once, and we'll decide on a plan of action.”

Making a hasty breakfast Peter left the Rising Sun room, and soon had delivered Noddy's message to several members of the gang. They were surprised at the news, but agreed to come to headquarters and talk the matter over, also to decide what would be best to do.

While Jimmy was kept in one of the rear rooms, amused over the big Chinese drum which Noddy had borrowed for him from the little Oriental theater nearby, the members of the organization held a consultation.

“I say, let him come here,” suggested Perkins. “We can do the thing here better than anywhere else. Let him bring his mother's consent in writing, to his signing the deed, and let her send a note agreeing that she will sign it later on. Then let Larry come here alone. Send him a note stating that he will be watched from the time he leaves his house until he gets here. If he stops to speak to anyone, or if he brings anyone with him, the fact will be immediately telephoned to us, and the whole thing will be off.”

“Meaning what?” asked Noddy.

“Meaning that we'll hide the kid where he'll never be found.”

“No, you don't!” exclaimed Noddy.

“That's all right, Noddy,” spoke Randall, in soothing tones. “There'll be no doubt but that Larry will agree to the terms. If he doesn't we'll not hurt the kid. I'm just as fond of him as you are. Don't make trouble now.”

“Well, I'll agree, as long as nothing bad happens to the little fellow,” stipulated the blue-handed man.

So it was arranged, and a note, making all the conditions specified, was sent to Larry.