Part 12 (1/2)
d.i.c.k's form was dropped on a heap of dirty newspapers and straw.
Then Girk and Baxter left the bin. There was a heavy door to the place, and this they closed and shoved the rusty bolt into the socket. In a second more they were on their way upstairs again, and d.i.c.k was left to his fate.
CHAPTER VIII
THE SEARCH FOR d.i.c.k
”d.i.c.k is taking his time, that's certain.”
The remark came from Sam, after the boys who had been left in the alleyway had waited the best part of half an hour for the elder Rover's reappearance.
”Perhaps he has found something of interest,” suggested Frank.
”And perhaps he has fallen into a trap,” put In Tom. ”I've a good mind to hunt him up.”
”If you go I'll go with you,” said Sam.
”I don't want to be left out here alone,” said Frank. ”Let us wait a little longer.”
The best part of an hour pa.s.sed, but of course nothing was seen or heard of d.i.c.k.
”I shan't wait any longer,” began Tom, when they saw the front door of the tenement opened and two men hurried forth. Both had their hats pulled far down over their eyes and had their coat collars turned up, even though the night was warm.
”Out of sight!” cried Sam in a low voice, and they dropped down behind the stoop of the second tenement.
”One of those men was Buddy Girk!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tom, when the pair had pa.s.sed up the alleyway.
”And don't you know who the other was?” demanded Sam. ”It was Dan Baxter's father!”
”Impossible, Sam. Arnold Baxter is in the hospital, and--”
”It was Dan Baxter's father, as true as I'm born, Tom. No wonder he walked with a cane! Am I not right, Frank?”
”I don't know, I'm sure I don't remember Dan's father. But that was Buddy Girk, beyond a doubt.”
All of the boys were considerably excited and wondered if it would be best to follow up the vanis.h.i.+ng pair.
”I'd do it if I was certain d.i.c.k was safe!” cried Tom. ”I'm going to hunt for him,” he added, and before the others could stop him he entered the tenement. He stumbled around the lower hallway for several minutes and then called out softly:
”d.i.c.k! d.i.c.k! Where are you?”
No answer came back, and he continued his search. Then, lighting a match, he mounted the rickety stairs and called out again.
”Phat are ye a-raisin' such a row about?” demanded an Irish voice suddenly, and a front room door was thrown open. ”Can't ye let a dasent family slape?”
”I'm looking for my brother,” replied Tom. ”Sorry to disturb you. Have you seen anything of him?”
”Sure an' I don't know yer brother from the side av sole leather, b'y. Go 'long an' let me an' me family slape,” replied the Irishman.
”I've got to find my brother, sir. I'm afraid he has met with foul play. He came to see the men who just went out.”