Larry Dexter, Reporter/Chapter 36

note was delivered by mail to Larry the following day. It named Friday, two days hence, as the time, and one o'clock in the afternoon, as the hour.

“Well, that's the best time to have it happen,” remarked Mr. Newton, when shown the missive. “But there are some things that are going to make it hard.”

“What makes you say the hour is a good one?” asked Larry.

“Because, if we arrange matters right, we can raid 'em in time for the last edition of the Leader, and get a beat.”

“That's so; I didn't think about that part of it,” Larry remarked. “I was only anxious about Jimmy. But what is going to make it hard?”

“Well, I didn't count on them taking so many precautions,” answered the older reporter. “I thought you and I could go together, and I figured on being able to have several detectives stationed near by ready to break into the place, as soon as I gave the signal. But now it's got to be done differently.”

“If they see you start for their place with anyone they'll spirit Jimmy away, and probably hide him where we'll never find him. So you'll have to go to the place alone.”

“I'm not afraid,” observed Larry.

“No, I suppose not, but it upsets my plan. Then again, I wanted to get a sort of preliminary look at the place. From what little I can learn about the Rising Sun gang they have a number of exits at their headquarters. We'll have to guard them all; but how can we, if we don't know where to look for them?”

“That's so,” agreed Larry. “It's going to be harder than I thought. Couldn't we get enough police to surround the whole block?”

“We could, but there are two objections to that plan. One is that if we attempt to operate on such a large scale, some hint of our plans will leak out. There are always some leaks in the police department. The other objection is that some of their exits are probably underground, and a man, or several of them, might emerge somewhere in the middle of the next block. No, the only thing to do is to find where all the exits are, and I don't see how I'm going to do it.”

“I've got it!” exclaimed Larry. “There's Ah Moy, the Chinese who told me about the rising sun sign on the door.”

“Oh, yes; I had forgotten. Well, if we could prevail on him, and he could get us the information, it might do.”

“I'm pretty sure he'd help us, if we paid him,” said Larry. “But I don't know for sure whether he knows all about the place.”

“We can soon find out,” remarked Mr. Newton. “I'll see him right away, and offer him a good sum.”

It was several hours before Mr. Newton returned. Larry was anxiously waiting for him, and when the older reporter entered the room in Larry's house where the planning was going on, Larry burst out with:

“Will Ah Moy do it?”

“He surely will!” said Mr. Newton. “I had to argue with him a good while, though. It seems he is afraid of the gang, as he once belonged to it, but got out of it for some reason or other. But, luckily enough, he knows the layout of the rooms as well as he knows how to read a Chinese laundry ticket, which is no joke. He drew a rough sort of a plan for me, and with that I think I can get ahead of the gang. Now, Larry, I'll tell you what I think we'd better do. When I get through, if you have anything better to propose, don't hesitate to say so.

“In the first place, now that I know where all the exits are, and they are seven in number, I can arrange to have a detective placed at each one. Luckily, they are some distance apart, so stationing men in plain clothes at them will not attract attention. As I surmised, there is one exit on a separate block from the one where the building is.

“At the appointed time you'll start for the gang's headquarters. You'll go all alone, but I'll be close behind you,” went on Mr. Newton.

“Won't they see you?”

“I think not. For the first time in my life I'm going to disguise myself a bit. I'll wear a false beard. Well, you'll enter the room, just as their note tells you. What will happen inside, of course, I can't say. You'll have to be governed by circumstances. But don't be afraid, and don't forget that help will be near. When you call out I'll break in the door, and give the signal for the detectives to close in.”

“Maybe you'll not be able to hear me shout,” Larry suggested. “It's quite a ways to the street.”

“I'll be in the hallway,” said Mr. Newton. “But, at the same time, perhaps a revolver shot would be a better signal. You can take a pistol with blank cartridges in it. That will do as well as one with bullets, and then no one will be shot by accident, for, though the gang is bad enough, we don't want any serious results, if we can help it.”

“Then you'll come to my aid when I fire one shot?” asked Larry.

“That's the idea.”

“But how are you going to get into the hallway without being seen? They are going to keep strict watch, I imagine.”

“Leave that to me. Now is there anything you don't understand, or anything you would change?”

“I guess I understand it all,” spoke Larry, “and I wouldn't alter a single bit of it. I wish it was time to go now.”

“I don't,” remarked Mr. Newton, with a laugh. “I've got too much to do to have the raid happen until the appointed time. But when that comes, I'll be ready for it.”

The rest of that day and part of the next Mr. Newton found all too short for what he had to do. He made many trips, and saw a number of persons, taking care to see that he was not followed, especially when he went to police headquarters. One visit he made late at night, and that was to a costumer's, where he bought a wig and false beard.

On the morning of Friday, the day planned for the raid, Mr. Newton spent some time at City Hall. He was closeted with the mayor and several of the city officials, and the result of his interviews seemed to be satisfactory.

At last the hour arrived when Larry was to set out from his house for the headquarters of the gang. His mother bade him a tearful good-by, and Lucy, as she kissed him, told him she was sure it would all come out right.

If Larry was watched or followed, he was not able to detect it, though he had no doubt the gang had some one of its members “shadowing” him. He reached Chinatown. The streets, as usual, were filled with shuffling Orientals, who seemed to have no particular object in view. Larry looked to see if he could catch a sight of Mr. Newton, or any of the detectives, but none was in sight.

He reached the building, and, with a heart that beat wildly in spite of his efforts to remain calm, he started up the stairs. He felt to see if the revolver was safe in the outside pocket of his coat. Mr. Newton had told him to place it there, and to fire it while the weapon was inside the pocket, since to draw it might cause some hasty action on the part of some member of the gang.

Larry gave a timid tap at the door with the rising sun painted on it. The portal instantly swung back, though no one appeared, and a voice called out:

“Come in, Larry.”

The young reporter entered. He found himself in a sort of corridor, at the end of which was a room, brightly-lighted, in spite of the fact that it was broad daylight outside.

“Go on into the room,” the voice directed, and Larry walked forward.

He found a number of men seated about a table. One wore gloves, and as they were not fastened, Larry had a glimpse of the hands they covered. The skin on them was blue, and Larry knew that at last he had run the blue-handed man to his lair. The others, and there were five of them, glanced sharply at the boy.

“Well, I see you've agreed to our terms,” said Perkins, who acted as spokesman.

“Yes,” said Larry, his voice trembling a little. “Where is my brother?”

“He's safe,” was the reply. “You stick to your part of the agreement, and we will to ours. Where is your mother's note?”

Larry began fumbling in his pocket. At the same time, with wildly-beating heart, he was wondering whether he should give the signal for help. He did not quite know how to proceed.

“Come, the note!” said Perkins, impatiently.

Just at that instant a roughly-dressed man, with a plumber's kit of tools on his shoulder, was entering the hallway downstairs. As he crossed the threshold, another man, with a long scar on his face, lurched forward, and remarked:

“No one allowed in here.”

“I'm the plumber, sent to fix a leaky pipe,” announced the one with the tools, as he brushed past the man who sought to bar his progress.

Moving quickly but silently, the man with the plumber's tools came to a halt in front of the door with the rising sun on it.

“This is the place. Now to wait until I hear a shot,” he said, softly. “I hope the detectives are all in their places.”

Larry continued to fumble for the note. He wanted to gain time, and likewise he wanted to see the deed produced, since he knew it must be hidden somewhere in the room.

“I'll sign it now, and my mother can later,” spoke Larry.

“That was not the agreement!” said Perkins, sharply. “Are you trying to trick us?”

At that instant there came a cry:

“Larry! Larry! I want Larry!”

“It's Jimmy!” burst out Larry. “Where are you, Jimmy?”

“Get him out of here! He's trying to trick us!” shouted Perkins. Larry made a dash for the room whence his brother's voice had sounded. Perkins jumped up to bar his progress. At the same time all the others in the room rose from their chairs.

Larry thrust his hand into the pocket containing the revolver. Without drawing the weapon he fired.

At the sound of the report Perkins yelled:

“We're trapped! Every man for himself! Scatter! I'll take the kid!”

At that instant, as the sound of the report came to him, the man with the plumber's kit of tools, who had been standing outside the door, drew from the bundle a short but heavy hammer, and with one blow smashed the lock.

As the portal flew open he leaped inside, at the same time blowing shrilly on a whistle he placed to his mouth.

“This is the time Harvey Newton does a bit of real detective work!” he cried, smiling grimly as he dashed toward the lighted room.