The man reached the shanty, and knocked. To Jack's surprise the door was opened by a negro.

Wonder at this was quickly forgotten, however, for as the door closed from the woods behind Jack came the sound of voices, then an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n in Italian. A moment Jack stood, in consternation, believing he had been seen. But a glance showed that the owners of the voices were yet out of sight beyond a rise, and recalling his wits, Jack ran for a nearby clump of elders.

The voices came quickly nearer. Suddenly then, for the first time Jack recalled the camera. At once came the suggestion to get a snap of the newcomers as they stepped into the clearing.

Jack glanced about him. A short distance away, and but a few feet from the path, was a low, tent-like spruce. With instant decision he made for it, drawing the camera from his pocket as he ran.

Dropping to his knees, he wormed his way beneath the tree, and through to the opposite side. Finding an aperture commanding the exit of the path, he opened and focused the camera upon it. The next moment the two Italians appeared. For the fraction of a second Jack hesitated, fearing the click of the shutter might betray him. But he took the chance, there was a crisp, low click--and he had them, and they had pa.s.sed on.

Chuckling with delight, Jack crept forth. What next? Looking toward the shanty, he again saw the door opened by the negro. This decided him.

Replacing the camera in his pocket, he set off on a circuit through the trees that would bring him back to the clearing immediately opposite the shanty, determined if possible to reach it, and learn what was going on inside.

Without incident he made the point desired, and gazing from the cover of a bush, discovered with satisfaction that the two hundred yards separating him from his goal was dotted with small bushy spruce. More important still, on that side of the cabin were no windows.

Stooping, Jack was about to steal forth, when he paused with a new idea.

It came from a stray piece of wrapping-paper lying on the ground before him.

Why couldn't he conceal the camera in this paper, with a string tied to the shutter; approach the house, knock, ask some question, and secretly snap whoever opened the door?

To think was to decide, and at once he set about preparations. Finding some cord in a pocket, he first deadened the click of the shutter with a thread of the string, and secured a piece of it to the shutter trigger.

Carefully then he wrapped the camera, open, in the paper, and with his knife cut a small hole opposite the lens, and a second and smaller hole beneath. Through the latter he fished out the trigger-string--and the detective camera was complete.

Without delay Jack adjusted the parcel under his arm, holding the trigger-string in his fingers, and strode boldly forward toward the shanty. He reached it, approached the door, and knocked. From within came the sound of voices, then a heavy step. Drawing the string taut Jack moved back several paces, and pointed the opening in the package at the door.

But success was not to come too easily. The latch lifted, and the door opened only a few inches, barely showing the eyes and flat nose of the negro.

"W'at yo' want?" he demanded.

"Would you please tell me the way out to the road?" said Jack steadily.

The negro regarded him sharply a moment, then opening the door barely sufficient to reach out a hand, pointed toward the woods, and said gruffly, "Yo' see dat broke tree? Right out dah."

"Which one? I see two," declared Jack, coolly.

Impatiently the negro threw the door wide, stepped out, and pointed again. In an instant Jack had pulled the string, and from the parcel had come a soft "thugk!" "Thank you, sir," said Jack, turning away, and inwardly chuckling at the double meaning of the words. "Thank you."

"But look aheah, boy," added the colored man threateningly, "doan yo' be prowlin' roun' heah! Un'stan'?"

"No fear. I'll be glad when I'm away," responded Jack, again secretly laughing, and headed for the woods, the negro watching him until he was half way across the clearing.

Once more in the shelter of the trees, Jack determined to follow up his success by endeavoring to discover just what was taking place at the cabin. Hiding the camera in a convenient brush-heap, he made sure all was quiet, and again stole forth. Slipping quickly from shrub to shrub, he safely made the crossing, and came to a halt at the rear of the shanty.

To his ears came the sound of voices in subdued discussion. They were so m.u.f.fled, however, that he could distinguish nothing, and recalling a partly open window at the front, he went forward to the corner, peered cautiously about, and tiptoed to within a few feet of it.

At once the voices came to him plainly.

"You gotta dat?"

"Stan' in doo'way, hat in yo' han', upside down," responded the colored man's gruff voice.

Wondering, Jack drew nearer.

"At halfa da past two by da beeg clock," continued the first speaker.

There was a pause, and the negro repeated, "At half pas' two by dah city clock, shahp."

Suddenly it came to Jack. At the dictation of the Italian, the negro was writing a "Black Hand" letter--ordering one of their victims to display some signal to show that the demand for money would be complied with!

The Italian's next sentence left no further doubt. "If you no giva da sign, you deada man by seex clock."

At the words, and the fierceness with which they were uttered, Jack felt a chill run up his spine. Had he followed his immediate impulse he would have fled. But determining to learn if possible who the letter was for, he waited.

"What numbah?" asked the negro.

"Feefity-nine Main."

The Italian restaurant! Another letter to Spanelli! The men he was after!

Jack waited to hear no more, but tiptoeing back about the corner, was off for the woods, jubilant at his success.

Indeed Jack was over jubilant--so jubilant that he forgot the necessity of caution, made a short cut across an open s.p.a.ce in full view of the shanty, and half way was brought to a sudden realization of his mistake by the creak of an opening door. In consternation he at once saw he could not reach cover before being seen, and also that did he run, the Black-Handers would understand they had been discovered.

With quick presence of mind he recognized and instantly did the one thing possible. Turning, he headed back boldly for the cabin. The next instant the three Italians came into view, immediately discovered him, and halted. Secretly trembling, but with a cool front, Jack approached them as they stood, excitedly whispering.

"Would you kindly tell me the time?" he asked.

The three men exchanged glances, then, as at a signal, stepped forward and surrounded him. "Now, whata you want?" demanded one of them sharply, thrusting his dark face close to Jack's. Before Jack could repeat his question the shanty door opened and the negro appeared. Exclaiming angrily, he ran toward them.

"W'at he want? W'at he want now?" he demanded.

"He say, whata da time," repeated one of the Italians.

"W'at de time? He am a spy! A spy!" cried the negro. "In de house with him!" Jack sprang back, and turned to run. With a rush the negro and one of the foreigners were upon him, and despite his terrified struggles he was dragged bodily into the shanty. There they flung him heavily into a chair, and gathered menacingly about him.

"Now boy, w'at yo' spyin' roun' heah fo'? Eh?" demanded the negro fiercely.

Instinctively Jack opened his lips to deny the charge, but closed them, and remained in dogged silence. Despite his peril, he felt he could not tell a deliberate falsehood. The negro repeated the question.

"I simply asked them the time," said Jack evasively.

With a snarl one of the foreigners caught him by the shoulders and yanked him upright. "Tie heem!" he directed, and roughly two of the others drew Jack's hands behind him, and bound them with a cord. As one of the Italians then proceeded to tie a handkerchief about his ankles, Jack barely suppressed a cry of fright. But grimly he clenched his teeth, and not a sound escaped him as the negro then caught him up, carried him across the room, kicked open a door, and threw him upon the floor within.

For a few minutes Jack lay dazed, then turning on his side, he looked about him. By the dim light of a dusty window he saw he was in a small, roughly furnished bedroom. Before he had taken in further particulars, however, a sound of heated discussion in the outer room drew his attention.

"No, no! We can't taka da chance!" came the voice of one of the Italians.

"Not wid dat boy!"

Filled anew with terror Jack struggled to a sitting position and began straining desperately at his bonds. A moment's effort caused his heart to sink. The knots were as taut as though made of wire.