As Tom spoke he pointed to an opening between two tall office buildings. Reaching the spot they saw, at the foot of the alleyway, a couple of tenement houses. Buddy Girk was ascending the steps of one of the houses, and presently he disappeared within the dark hall.

"He must be stopping here," remarked Sam.

"That is something worth knowing--if we want to put the police on his track."

"I might have him arrested at once," suggested d.i.c.k. "He may not be here in the morning."

"Why don't you go and have a talk with him?" came from Frank.

"He may get scared and tell you all you want to know about that mining business."

"By jinks, there is something in that!" cried d.i.c.k.

"Don't you get into trouble," warned Tom. "He may prove an ugly customer if you corner him."

"Let's all go in," said Sam. "He won't dare to do much with four against him."

The subject was discussed for a few minutes, and they resolved to follow Sam's advice, d.i.c.k to lead the way and learn just how the land lay.

Then all walked down the alleyway and toward the tenement, little dreaming of the surprise in store for them.

CHAPTER VII

d.i.c.k IS MADE A PRISONER

The hallway of the tenement was pitch-dark, the door standing open for a foot or more. From a rear room came a thin stream of light under a door and a low murmur of voices.

"I guess he went to the rear," whispered d.i.c.k. "You wait around the corner till I see."

Noiselessly he entered the hallway and walked to the door of the rear room. Listening, he heard an Irishman and his wife talking over some factory work the man had been promised.

"Girk can't be there," he thought, when he heard an upper door open.

"Hullo, Buddy, back again!" muttered a strangely familiar voice, and then the upper door was closed and locked.

Wondering where he had heard that voice before, d.i.c.k came forward again and ascended the rickety stairs. They creaked dismally, and he fully expected to see somebody come out and demand what was going on. But n.o.body came, and soon the upper hall was gained, and he reached the door which he rightfully guessed had just been opened and closed.

"Yes, everything is all okay," were the first words to reach his ears. "But I had a sweet job to find Mooney. He's cracked on music, it seems, and had gone to a concert instead of attending to business."

"But he won't fail us tomorrow morning?" came in a second voice, and now d.i.c.k recognized the speaker as Arnold Baxter, his father's worst enemy, who had been left at the hospital in Ithaca with a broken limb and several smashed ribs. Baxter had tackled d.i.c.k while the two were on a moving train, and, while trying to throw the boy off, had gotten the worst of the encounter by tumbling off himself.

"Arnold Baxter! is it possible!" muttered d.i.c.k to himself. "He must have a const.i.tution like iron to get around so soon."

"No, Mooney won't fail us," said Buddy Girk. "I gave him a mighty good talkin' to, I did."

"I can't afford to have him go back on us," growled Arnold Baxter. "I'm not well enough yet to do this job alone."

"How does your chest feel?"

"Oh, the ribs seem to be all right. But my leg isn't. I shouldn't wonder but what I'll have to limp more or less for the rest of my life."

"That puts me in mind. Whom do you reckon I clapped eyes on down at the concert hall tonight?"

"I'm sure I don't know. Any of our enemies?"

"Those three Rover boys."

"What!" Arnold Baxter pushed back his chair in amazement. "Can they be--be following me?" he gasped.

"No. I saw 'em by accident. They had been to the concert."

"But they don't belong here. They live on a farm called Valley Brook, near the village of Dexter's Corners."

"They were with another boy--a well-dressed chap. Maybe they are paying him a visit."

Arnold Baxter shook his head. "I don't like this. If they have got wind of anything..."

"But how could they get wind?" persisted Buddy Girk.

"That would remain to be found out. You must remember, Buddy, that they are down on me because of that row I once had with their father over that gold mine."

"I know it. And, by the way, I never got nothin' out of that deal neither," growled Buddy Girk.

"Didn't I tell you that some papers were missing? I half believe Anderson Rover took them with him when he set out for Africa."

"Then they are gone for good."

"Not if he comes back, Buddy. That man is like his boys--bound to turn up when you least expect it. That gold mine was--What's that?"

Arnold Baxter stopped short and leaped to his feet. A wrangle in the hallway just outside of the door had interrupted him.

"Vot vos you doin' here, hey?" came in a heavy German voice. "I d.i.n.k me you vos up to no goot, hey?"

"Let me go!" came from d.i.c.k. "I have done no harm."

"I d.i.n.k you vos von sneak thief alretty! Stand still bis I find owit."

"It's Dutch Jake!" cried Buddy Girk. "He has collared somebody in the hall. I'll see who it is."

He threw open the door and allowed the light of a lamp to fall on d.i.c.k and the burly man who had captured the youth.

"Great smoke! It's one of dem Rover boys!" he cried, dropping into his old-time manner of speech. "Wot are you doin' here?"

"You know dot young feller?" demanded the man who had been mentioned as Dutch Jake.