SEARCHING FOR THE LOST
When the Dexter household awoke the morning after the night on which
Jimmy had disappeared, it seemed as if it was all a bad dream or
nightmare. It did not seem possible that the little fellow was missing,
and Larry, as he roused himself from his uneasy slumbers, and jumped out
of bed, was half inclined to believe that it was all only a vision of
the darkness.
But the absence of Jimmy’s cheerful call, silence in his room, and the
lack of the child’s merry laugh, soon emphasized the fact that he was
missing.
No one felt like eating breakfast, and Mrs. Dexter was so much affected
that Larry feared she would become ill.
“Now, mother,” he said to her, “you must not worry so. I’ll admit
there’s lots of cause for it, but we’ll find Jimmy sooner or later. He
can’t be hurt. He’s probably, as I said, been taken by that gang, but
it’s to their interest to keep him safe. He has a claim on the property
the same as you or I have, and if any—any harm came to him it would only
mix things up for them. You can depend on it, they’ll take very good
care of Jimmy.”
“Do you think so?” asked Mrs. Dexter.
“Sure,” replied Larry. “Besides we’ll have him back in a few days, no
matter where he is. Mr. Newton and I will start on the search. The
_Leader_ will help us, and all the police in the city will lend a hand,
as they are friendly toward our paper.”
“That’s right, mother,” chimed in Lucy. “Don’t worry, and I’m sure it
will all come out right. I feel that Jimmy will come back safe to us.”
“I’ll try,” said Mrs. Dexter, wiping the tears from her eyes, “but it’s
a terrible thing to have a little boy kidnapped.”
Larry made a light breakfast, and hurried to the office. Early as he
was, he found Mr. Newton there before him. The older reporter showed the
strain he was under, for he had slept but little. Pretty soon Mr. Emberg
came in.
Mr. Newton soon explained the situation to the editor, and asked for a
leave of absence for Larry and himself to enable them to trace down the
gang and locate Jimmy.
“Of course you may go,” said the city editor. “Call on the _Leader_ for
any help you want, financial or otherwise. If you can get at this gang
and break it up, or if you can get at the bottom of this land deal and
make a story out of it, so much the better. Have your own way, your time
is your own. Come back to work, Larry, when you find your brother and
clear up the mystery.”
With this roving commission, Larry and Mr. Newton started away.
“Well, Larry,” remarked the older reporter, “we seem to be sort of up
against it.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Larry, helplessly. “Mother is almost
sick from worry, and if we don’t find Jimmy soon I don’t know what will
happen.”
“Larry,” spoke Mr. Newton, solemnly, “we’re going to find the little
fellow. I don’t pose as a prophet, and my predictions don’t always come
true, but I’m going to succeed in this, and we’re not going to give in
to those scoundrels, either. There’s something big in this for you and
your mother, or I’m greatly mistaken. Otherwise the gang would not be so
anxious to get that land. But we’re going to let that go for a while,
and work only on clews that will lead to finding your brother. We’ll
begin at the beginning, which is at the Garden, where he disappeared.”
The two reporters went to where the circus was holding forth. It was
about ten o’clock in the morning, and the big arena had a very different
appearance from the night before, when thousands of lights lent a
glamour to the scene, and when gayly-dressed men and women added to the
brilliance.
Now everything was dark and dreary. A few men, seemingly too tired to
move, were fixing up some of the apparatus, and others were sweeping and
dusting. It was a glance behind the scenes with everything at its worst.
Mr. Newton knew several of the managers of the departments, and soon was
in conversation with them. He wanted to find out who of the circus men
were on duty at the gate Larry and Jimmy left by.
From the man who kept the list of employees Mr. Newton learned exactly
what he wanted to know.
“It was Bill Lynch,” the bookkeeper said. “Maybe he can help you, but
he’ll not be here until near noon. He’s on guard at No. 16 entrance.”
It was tedious waiting for Lynch, but at last he came in. Larry and Mr.
Newton made a dash for him, almost before the man had his coat off,
preparatory to donning his uniform.
“What’s this, a hold-up?” he asked, good-naturedly.
“A hold-up for information,” said Mr. Newton. “We want to know something
about a boy who is missing, and who is supposed to have passed out the
gate where you stood last night,” and the reporter described Jimmy.
“My lands!” the man said. “I can’t remember every boy I see. I don’t
take notice of the thousands that pass by me every night. If I did I’d
go crazy. All I do is to see that they keep order.”
“But he was with me,” put in Larry. “I had hold of his hand, and I was
leading him out, when he asked me to come and see the animals again. But
I was in too much of a hurry to get out to pay any attention to him. Now
can’t you remember? Right after that I missed him, and made a lot of
inquiries.”
“I remember there was quite some stir about a missing boy last night,”
remarked Mr. Lynch, “but that happens so often I paid no attention to
it. But now that you speak of it, I do seem to recall something about a
boy begging to be taken to see the animals again. It was rather odd, I
call to mind now, I was thinking, that a lad who had seen all the
trapeze stunts inside would be wanting to go back to the animals. Most
of ’em, as soon as they comes out, asks their fathers or mothers to buy
’em a trapeze, or some flying rings. But I recall I heard one little lad
asking to be taken to the animals, and possibly it’s the one you’re
inquiring of.”
“I’m sure it is!” exclaimed Larry. “What happened to him?”
“As near as I can recollect,” went on Mr. Lynch, “I heard someone tell
him to come with him, and he’d see the beasts. Didn’t you take him
yourself?”
“No,” replied Larry. “Try and think, Mr. Lynch, what sort of a person it
was enticed him away.”
The doorkeeper seemed lost in thought. He pondered over the matter,
striving to bring back to his mind the scene he had almost forgotten.
“I think I have it!” he exclaimed. “There was a lad about your age,”
indicating Larry, “who came up behind the little chap, and said
something about taking him to see the animals. I didn’t pay much
attention, for I thought you were all together.”
“What sort of a boy was this one you speak of?” asked Mr. Newton,
eagerly.
“Well, he was what I’d call a bold-looking lad,” was the answer. “Not a
nice sort of a chap at all, though he seemed smart.” He proceeded to
describe the boy more fully when Mr. Newton interrupted him:
“I’m pretty sure I know who he was!”
“So am I!” cried Larry. “It was Peter Manton!”
“The very one I had in mind,” spoke Mr. Newton. “That only proves what
we believed all along. It is the gang with the blue-handed man at the
head that has Jimmy. Peter is only one of the tools. Yet we may be able
to get a clew through him. He’s liable to make a false move, not being
as well versed in crime as the older ones. I think we are beginning to
see daylight, Larry.”
“But it’s a pretty faint clew,” objected Larry.
“Yes, of course, but we can’t expect everything. We’ve got a clew
quicker than I expected we would. Now we will have to develop it and
work it up. I’m sure it will lead to something. We must get on the trail
of Peter. Do you think you could do that?”
“I guess so,” answered Larry.
“Then we’ll split up this work,” went on the older reporter. “You devote
your time to locating Peter, or find out where he hangs out. If you get
a chance, follow him. Sooner or later he’ll go to the headquarters of
the gang. I’ll work on another end.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Larry.
“I’m going to start my investigations from the sign of the blue hand,”
replied Mr. Newton.
“Not from the place in Chinatown where you were nearly injured by those
men?”
“That’s what I’m going to do. But don’t be alarmed. There’s no one at
that place now. The gang moved out soon after I traced them there, and
have not been back since. I learned that from some detectives. So
there’s no danger in going back there.”
“But what good will it do?”
“It may put me on the track of the gang’s new headquarters. That it is
somewhere in Chinatown I’m certain, but to locate it is a harder
proposition. I may be able to make friends with someone in the house
where the room with the sign of the blue hand on the door is located,
and he may be able to tell me where the members of the gang hold out.
Once I get a clew the rest will be comparatively easy.”
“Well, I hope you’ll succeed,” spoke Larry. “In the meanwhile I’ll see
if I can locate Peter.”
Arranging to meet again late that night at Mr. Newton’s house, Larry and
his friend separated. The boy hardly knew where to begin. Without
experience in this sort of work, for which Mr. Newton’s training as a
newspaper reporter fitted him, Larry thought the only way to do would be
to walk about the streets, taking a chance of seeing Peter in the crowds
that passed by. He even tried this plan, but he saw that it would be apt
to fail, since the chances were so much against him.
“I ought to start at the beginning,” he said. “That is, if I knew where
the beginning was.”
Then it occurred to him that the most natural way would be to find out
where Peter lived, or had lived, and to go there.
“I wonder why I didn’t think of that at first?” mused Larry. “Of course
I should have. I’ll go back to the office. They’ll probably have Peter’s
address on the payroll.”
Back to the _Leader_ office he went. He explained what he wanted to Mr.
Emberg, who soon ascertained from the cashier’s books where the former
copy boy had lived.
“But he probably doesn’t live there now,” said the city editor. “This
was nearly a year ago. He’s likely moved since.”
“I’ll trace him!” exclaimed Larry. “I’ll get on his trail and find him,
if he’s in the city.”