CAPTURED!
The two days were up. Jack and Ken, waiting for Paul, sat idly about
at the latter’s garage. It was early morning, about nine o’clock and
the day was clear and warm. Soon Paul appeared and he sat down near
his friends on a box. “All right, fellows,” he said, “what’s to be our
first move?”
“Go down to the cellar,” suggested Jack. “It’s early morning and
probably no one will be there. We will have at least a couple of hours
in which to look around.”
“Yes, and perhaps we will find the secret door,” added Ken.
“Let’s go, then,” said Paul.
Jack picked up the baseball bat and followed. “Again you’re bringing
along your bat,” remarked Paul.
“Sure. It may come in handy.”
“You’re right. It might not be a bad idea for Ken and I also to take
along some sort of weapon.”
They stopped and looked around. Finding a stray broom handle, Ken sawed
it into three pieces and Jack discarded his bat. Putting their weapons
out of sight, they walked off. “How will we manage it?” asked Ken.
“We will do it the same as last time,” suggested Paul. “You will stay
outside and keep a careful watch while Jack and I will go down. Is that
agreeable?”
Ken nodded. “It’s all right with me.”
Before they reached the empty house, Jack suggested that they take
a look at the house in its rear, where no doubt the secret door was
situated. His companions thought it was a good idea and they proceeded
to do so.
Ken took his place at one corner and Paul, by walking around the block,
took his place at the opposite corner. When all was ready, Jack very
innocently walked down the street on the wrong side. The house under
suspicion was a one family brick building with a stoop leading up to
the front door; at the ground level were noticeable the small windows
of the cellar. From all appearances, the house was occupied; there were
curtains in the windows, several flower pots were distributed on the
small porch and a rubber hose lay on the ground not far from the house.
As Jack reached the corner, he took over Ken’s place and the latter
strolled nonchalantly up the street, noticing everything within
sight of the house. The boys got together again and discussed their
impressions of the house. “Very innocent looking as far as I could
see,” remarked Ken.
“Don’t let that fool you,” asserted Paul.
The boys proceeded to the empty house. Careful not to be seen as they
entered the yard, they put their ears to the ground to find out whether
the printing press was in motion. Satisfied that everything was quiet
below as far as they could judge they prepared for action.
Ken took his place prepared to watch, while Jack and Paul moved off and
entered the house. Closing the door quietly behind them, they entered
the first room on their right. Moving very cautiously, they approached
the spot where the trap door was supposed to be. But at first they
could not find the small piece of wood that came out of the floor. Both
boys frantically hunted for that piece of wood. After about fifteen
minutes of digging their nails into the floor in wild search, Jack at
last came upon it and lifted it out of the floor.
Paul lifted the trap door and began to descend. Their hearts were
aflutter with excitement. What awaited them below? Would they come to
trouble? Would they come to grips with the gangsters? Both boys had had
a taste of their medicine, but that didn’t discourage them nor were
they intimidated. Grasping firmly their short sticks, they walked down
the steps.
It was dark below, and that was a good sign. Each of the boys carried
a flashlight and lit up their way. Jack closed the trap door over his
head and followed Paul. At the bottom of the stairs, Paul waited for
his friend. A beam of light went all around the room and came to rest
on the table. About five or six bills lay sprawled on the wooden table.
Jack whispered, “Look.”
Paul nodded. Together they approached the table and looked at the
money bills. There were two fives, two tens and a twenty dollar bill.
“Counterfeit,” whispered Paul.
Jack picked one up and slipped it into his pocket. They returned to
the end of the room and began a thorough search, working from one end
of the room to the other. There were several pieces of clothing, many
rags, various packages, and other things, such as tools and machinery
about which they knew nothing. They paused to examine the printing
press very carefully. They moved on. Jack whispered, “Let’s try to find
the secret door.”
Paul nodded. “It must be over the other way,” he whispered back.
They proceeded to the other end of the cellar. A beam of light moved
back and forth over the wall, but no sign of a door. They tapped and
groped at the wall but with no success. Suddenly their hearts fell.
The faint noise of footsteps on the other side of the wall came to
them. Their minds were in a whirl. What were they to do? Were they to
be captured? If so what would happen to them? They already had a taste
of what the gang did to anyone spying on them. What would they do now?
All these thoughts flashed through their minds in an instant. Paul
whispered, “Hide.”
Paul dived behind a bunch of rags and pulled several of the rags over
him. But Jack was not so quick. At his corner, there was no ready
hiding place for him to run to. And he was still looking for one as the
electric light flashed on and part of the middle of the wall was pushed
open. In a flash, he noticed how the door worked; the handle of the
door was pushed through on the other side, and thus a means was left
for an exit; but on leaving, if the handle was pulled in, whoever was
in the cellar was either imprisoned or had to use the trap door in the
empty house.
As the door was thrown open, the two gangsters whom Paul had noticed
with the fat fellow and the grocery man, stepped forth. Seeing Jack,
one of them whipped a revolver out of his hip pocket. The second one,
however, grabbed his mate by the arm and exclaimed, “Don’t shoot. He is
only a kid.”
Advancing to Jack, the second one demanded, “What are you doing here?”
Jack held his breath and tried not to look in the direction where his
chum was hiding. “Just happen to be here,” he answered, his heart in
his mouth, wondering what they would do to him.
The gangster became angry and boisterous. “I know you happen to be
here,” he cried as he gave the boy a shove that sent him sprawling.
“But how do you happen to be here, that’s what I want to know.”
Jack picked himself up. The first man, with his gun still in his hand,
mumbled to his companion, “Wait a minute, Pete, somebody else may be
here. Let’s look around.”
“Okey, Joe. Keep this fellow covered while I look around.”
He took his gun out of his pocket and let his eyes wander about the
cellar. He spied the bundle of rags. Levelling the gun at it, he cried,
“If you’re hiding there behind the rags, you better come out or I’ll
shoot.”
Paul thought he had better not take any chances and slowly he rose,
with his hands above his head. Joe cried, “I think that’s the guy the
boss and I caught the other day and I socked him.”
Pete demanded, “Are there any more of you in here?”
Paul shook his head. Out of the corner of their eyes, the boys glanced
at each other. Both were pale and tense, but not frightened. Pete
raised his fist threateningly and scowled, “If you’re lying, I’ll knock
your block off.”
Paul said, “If you don’t believe me why don’t you look around and see
for yourself.”
That seemed to satisfy the gangster and he lowered his arm. “What are
you doing here?” he again demanded.
“We came upon the trap door by accident,” replied Paul undaunted, “and
we thought we would look and see what it was all about.”
“You’re sure you don’t know any more than that?”
“What could we know that you don’t want us to know?” asked Paul.
Pete lunged out and hit Paul on the cheek. “That’ll teach you not to
get fresh,” he hissed.
“What’ll we do with them?” asked the gangster named Joe, addressing his
mate. “You think we ought to dump them?”
“No,” was the snarling reply. “We’ll tie them up and leave it to the
boss to do with them as he pleases.”
“What for?” demanded Joe. “They’re a couple of rats and we ought to get
rid of them.”
“They’re kids,” argued Pete. “We dump them and you’ll have the cops on
our tail.”
“The cops don’t need to know.”
“Never mind. Tie them up and don’t argue.”
The two gangsters faced each other and it seemed that they might get
into a quarrel. “I say dump them,” shouted Joe.
“And I say no,” snarled back Pete.
Jack and Paul watched them face each other, leveling their guns. The
boys thought it would be good luck if they did fight and kill each
other. But in that case there would be shooting and they needed safe
places to run to. However, Joe, the weaker of the two, gave in and
muttered, “Okey. We’ll tie them up.”
Tearing some rags into strips, Joe tied the boy’s hands and feet and
their own handkerchiefs were used to put around their mouths. The job
completed, they were tossed into the corner. Pete, who was watching the
procedure, now said, “All right. Now grab those two packages and take
them to the boss. And ask him what to do with these kids.”
“And what are you gonna do?” Joe asked with malice.
“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on these kids.”
“That’s all right with me,” said Joe. He went to the other end of the
cellar and picked up two packages wrapped in plain brown paper. Nodding
to his mate, he called, “Okey, I’ll be going now.”
“And don’t take all day coming back,” snarled Pete.
Joe was gone. Pete brought over a chair and leaned it against the wall.
Sitting down, he took a penknife out of his pocket, placed his gun in
his lap and began to clean his fingernails. “It’s too bad you kids have
to pry into things you shouldn’t,” he muttered, addressing himself to
the boys without looking at them. “It ain’t healthy. You’re liable to
get bumped off one of these days and then where will it get you?” He
paused for a moment to think and scratch his head. “Mind your own
business is my motto,” he continued. “If everybody would mind their own
business, everything would be all right. As it is, people get into the
trouble, like you kids, when you shouldn’t.”
He stopped talking. With their hands tied behind their backs, the boys
worked feverishly to loosen their bonds. But they had to work without
being suspected by their captor. And what’s more, Joe had done a good
and expert job. The bonds were tied so strongly they could barely move
their wrists.