Part 48 (1/2)
”Please don't make no more row in the house than you can help,” put in the elevator man. ”This is a swell apartment and we don't like rows. I didn't know that lawyer who took this apartment was a crook.”
”We'll do the job as quietly as possible,” answered the second policeman, who chanced to know the elevator man.
”Dan, I think you can help me out,” suggested d.i.c.k. ”You might go to the door and call out that there is a telegram for Belright Fogg.
Then, when he opens the door, push into the room and we'll follow.”
”Want me to help?” asked the elevator man, who was becoming interested.
”If you will,” said d.i.c.k. ”You can guard the stairs--so they can't run down that way.”
”I'll do it.”
Without further delay Dan Baxter walked to the door at which d.i.c.k had been listening. He chanced to have an old telegram envelope in his pocket and this he produced. He knocked loudly on the portal.
”Who is there?” cried the lawyer, in a somewhat startled voice, and Baxter heard several chairs s.h.i.+fted back as the occupants of the apartment leaped to their feet.
”Telegram for Mr. Fogg--Belright Fogg!” drawled Dan, in imitation of an A. D. T. youth.
”A telegram, eh?” muttered the lawyer. ”Wonder what is up now?”
He came to the door and unlocked it cautiously. He was going to open it only a few inches, to peer out, but Baxter threw his weight against the portal, sending the lawyer backwards and b.u.mping into Jesse Pelter.
”Hi, what's this?” stammered Belright Fogg. ”What do you mean by----”
He got no further, for at that instant d.i.c.k came into the apartment, closely followed by the two policemen.
At once there was a wild commotion. Pelter and j.a.pson let out yells of alarm, and both tried to back away, into the next room. But d.i.c.k was too quick for them and barred their progress.
”Let me go!” yelled Pelter, and tried to hurl d.i.c.k to one side. Then j.a.pson struck out with his fist, but the oldest Rover boy dodged.
”So that's your game, is it?” cried Dan Baxter, as he saw the attack.
”Two can play at that!” And drawing back, the young traveling salesman hit j.a.pson a blow on the chin that bowled the broker over like a tenpin.
In the meantime d.i.c.k had grappled with Pelter and was holding the rascally broker against the wall. One of the policemen already held Fogg, who was trembling from head to foot in sudden panic.
”Surrender, in the name of the law!” said the bluecoat. And he made a move as if to draw a pistol.
”I--I sur--render!” gasped Belright Fogg, and up went his hands, tremblingly.
The other policeman produced a pair of handcuffs and in a twinkling they were slipped upon j.a.pson's wrist. Then the bluecoats turned towards Pelter.
”You shan't arrest me!” yelled that broker, savagely, and with a wrench, he tore himself from d.i.c.k's grasp and started through the rooms to the rear of the apartment.
CHAPTER XXIX
BROUGHT TO TERMS
”Stop him!”