FOLLOWING ALLEN.
Hal was astonished to learn from Katie McCabe that Dick Ferris was
coming up the tenement stairs.
"He can't be coming here!" exclaimed the youth.
"What shall we do if he does?" asked McCabe.
"I don't know. Perhaps I had better hide. He may----"
At that instant came a knock on the door.
"It's him!" whispered Katie.
Andy McCabe, the father, pointed to a closet. Hal tiptoed his way to it,
and motioned for Katie to follow. The door was closed, and then Andy
McCabe answered the summons.
Ferris stood at the door, his hair disheveled and his lips trembling.
"May I ask who lives here?" he asked.
"My name is McCabe."
"Isn't there a man by the name of Macklin living here?" went on Ferris.
"Macklin?" repeated McCabe, slowly.
"Yes, Tommy Macklin."
"Not as I know on. What does he do?"
"I don't know. I have a letter to deliver to him. So you don't know
where he lives?"
"No, sir."
"It's too bad. Will you please tell me what time it is?"
Andy McCabe glanced at the alarm clock that stood on the mantel-shelf.
"Quarter to six."
"As late as that!" cried Ferris. "I must hurry and catch him before six.
Only quarter of an hour. Good-day, sir."
"Good-day."
In a moment Ferris was gone. McCabe closed the door, and Hal came out of
the closet followed by Katie.
"What does he mean?" questioned the man.
"I'll tell you what it means," said Hal. "He is trying to prove an
alibi, in case a body was found in the vat. He thinks you can remember
he was here looking for Macklin at quarter to six. If that was true, how
could he have helped Macklin at five o'clock?"
"Well, well! he's a smart villain, so he is!" exclaimed Andy McCabe. "I
wonder what he would have done if you had stepped out of the closet?"
"I was strongly tempted to do that," laughed Hal. "But now I must be
off, Mr. McCabe. Please keep quiet, as I told you."
"I will, Mr. Carson. But where be you going?"
"To follow Ferris. Say, have you an old slouch hat you will exchange for
this cap of mine?"
"Here is one of Jack's."
"That will do first-rate."
Hal put on the hat and drew it down over his brow.
"Going to turn spy, be you?" remarked Andy McCabe.
"Yes."
"Well, I wish you luck."
Hal was soon out of the house. Once in the street, he looked up and
down.
Ferris was not in view, but he soon caught sight of the fellow coming
out of a tenement across the way. He crossed over and followed Ferris
toward Park Row, and then to the boarding house.
Here Hal heard the youth say something to his aunt about changing his
clothing, and the boy slipped into the house unobserved by anyone, and
did likewise. Ferris then left again, followed by Hal.
"I suppose he thinks he has laid good ground-work for his alibi,"
thought Hal. "Well, let him think so, he will be surprised before long
to learn the truth."
At Fourteenth Street Dick Ferris turned and walked toward Broadway. Hal
followed close behind, but in the crowd at the corner he lost track of
the fellow he was after.
He looked this way and that, and into the restaurants, but Ferris had
disappeared.
What was to do next? It was past supper-time, but Hal was in no humor
for eating.
Suddenly somebody brushed him rudely. It was a man wearing a heavy cape
coat. Hal glanced at the individual sharply, and was astonished to see
it was Mr. Caleb Allen.
Allen had not seen Hal, and the boy at once placed himself where he was
not likely to be noticed.
"I wonder if he and Ferris met?" thought Hal. "It isn't likely, but yet
it may be so. The three of them are into this, and so is that fellow
Macklin. I must be careful, and keep my eyes wide open."
Allen passed up Union Square on the west side, and Hal made it a point
to follow close behind.
Arriving at Seventeenth Street, Allen turned down toward the North
River. He passed over several blocks, and finally ascended the steps of
a small mansion on the left.
The front of the mansion was totally dark, but when the door was opened
Hal saw that the interior was brilliantly illuminated.
As soon as Allen passed in the door was closed, and all became as dark
as before, Hal hesitated, and then ascending the steps, looked for a
door-plate.
There was the number in bright silver numerals, but nothing was to be
seen of any name.
"Most of them have a name," he said to himself. "I wonder who lives
here?"
Hal descended again to the street, and walked on to the end of the
block.
Here was a small stand with a flaring gasoline torch, at which an old
German was selling apples and other fruit.
Hal entered into conversation with the proprietor of the stand, and at
length asked if he knew who lived at the place, mentioning the number.
"Dot blace?" The man gave a low laugh. "I dinks me nopody vos lif dere."
"Nobody?"
"Nein."
"But there must be somebody," urged Hal. "I saw a man go in."
"Dot's so, too." The German laughed again. "But da don't vos lif dere."
"Well, what are they doing there, then?"
The apple man put his long finger up beside his nose.
"Dot vos a blace ver dere rich fool vos plow in his money; see?"
"A gambling-place?"
"Oxactly."
"Who runs it?"
"Dot I don't vos know. I dinks me a fellow named Ditson."
"Do many men go there?"
"Yah. Somedimes so many as two dozen by von night."
"And they do nothing there but gamble?"
The German nodded. "Of you got some money you don't vont to kept dot's
der blace to lose it."
"Thank you, but I need all I have," laughed Hal.
"Den you don't better keep away, ain't it?"
"I think that would be best."
"Dake mine vort it vos."
"Did you see many men go in to-night?"
"Vot you ask dot for, hey?"
"I'm looking for a man I know."
"I seen nine or ten men go in by dere front door. I don't vos know how
many go py der pack."
"Then there is a back door?"
"Yah, on der next street."
"I see. Well, I guess I won't wait for the man."
Hal walked back slowly, and passed the house. What should he do next?
Would it be worth while to track Allen farther at present?
Suddenly an idea popped into his mind. Farther up the street he had
passed a costumers' establishment, where everything in the shape of a
make-up for detective or actor was to be had.
He walked back to the place, and entered it. Back of the counter stood a
young who came up and asked what was wished.
"Can I get a small, black mustache cheap?" asked Hal.
"We have them for twenty-five cents."
"Will they stay on?"
"Yes, if you adjust them properly."
"Then let me have one."
The clerk brought forth the false mustache, and helped Hal to put it on.
The youth looked in a mirror at the effect.
"Changes me completely," he said.
"It does, sir. Makes you look five years older, too."
"Here is your money."
The clerk took Hal's quarter, and the boy walked forth from the place
without taking the trouble to remove the mustache. Once outside he could
not help but laugh.
"I am certainly going into the detective business, and no mistake," he
thought. "I trust I am successful in what I undertake to do."
Hal walked back toward the gambling-house, and after some hesitation
ascended the stone steps and rang the bell.
A negro answered his summons.
"Is Mr. Arnold here?" asked the lad, as coolly as he could.
"Mr. Arnold?" The negro shook his head.
"But he must be," persisted Hal. "He said he was coming here."
"Don't t'ink I see him, sah. What kind ob a lookin' gen'men he is?"
"About medium built, with a dark mustache," replied Hal. "I have
important news for him. He said he was going to try his luck here
to-night."
"I see, sah. Den you knows dis place, sah."
"Oh, yes!"
"Come in, sah."
Hal entered, and the door was closed and locked behind him.
"Now you kin go upstairs an' see if de gen'men am here," said the negro.
"He might be, yo' know, an' I not know his name, sah."
"All right; I'll take a look around," replied Hal.