CHAPTER V.

  2109 HOYNE STREET.

  Hoyne Street was easily found. A number of blast furnaces stood so nearthe house the two chums were looking for that the flames from theirtall chimneys lighted up the surroundings so brilliantly that theywere able to read the number over the door.

  The house was a two-story frame structure. The gas and smoke from theneighboring iron mills had shriveled and scorched everything in thatpart of the town. Even by night, and under the glow of the furnaces,Hoyne Street had a dismal and dreary appearance.

  No. 2109 was set well back from the sidewalk. Two branching wings, infront, made the house look like a deserted manufacturing plant. Thisimpression was heightened by several broken windows.

  There were no lights in the windows other than the reflected glare fromthe high chimneys.

  "Whoosh!" muttered Carl, as he and Matt came close to the front of thehouse and read the number. "Dot's der blace, Matt, aber it don'd lookpooty goot to me. Der feller vat lifs dere don'd got enough money,I bed you, to pay for sending dot delegram. Der hen oof drouple issaboudt to hatch somet'ing."

  "It may be," answered Matt, who likewise had a queer premonition oftrouble, "but we've come this far and I'm going to see the thingthrough. If anything goes wrong in that house it will be on account ofthat roll of blue prints. I'll leave the roll with you, Carl, and youcan stay outside. I won't be in the house more than fifteen minutes atmost."

  "Vell, you look a leedle oudt, Matt, dot's all. Oof somet'ing goeswrong mit you, led off a yell und I vill come gallywhooping."

  "I don't think anything will go wrong with me if I haven't those papersin my pocket."

  Carl shivered.

  "Chee, but der leedle fires on der chimneys iss prighdt. Somet'ingaboudt dis blace gifs me a creepiness oof der skin. Be jeerful, bejeerful! Don'd shday in dere longer as den minids, Matt, oder I vaslikely to t'row fits."

  "I'll come out as soon as I can, Carl," answered Matt. "Don't fret. I'mable to take care of myself in a pinch."

  "Oof you see der pinch fairst, yah, I bed you! Aber oof der pinch comeven you don'd vas looking, den vat?"

  Matt laughed as he turned away, climbed a short flight of steps anddrummed on the front door. He had to rap three or four times before hissummons was answered.

  A light showed itself through a fan-shaped transom over the door, and ahand could be heard fumbling with a rusty bolt. In a minute or so thedoor was drawn open and a girl stood revealed. She carried a lamp witha smoked chimney, and one of her slender hands protected the flame fromthe draft.

  She was eighteen or nineteen years old, and, in spite of her coarsecalico gown, she was extremely pretty. Her prettiness, however, wasnot what impressed Matt. The first thing he noticed was that the handshielding the lamp was trembling. Lifting his eyes to the girl's face,he observed that she wore a frightened look.

  "Does Mr. Jerrold live here?" Matt asked.

  The girl stared at him; her lips moved, but no sound came through them.Matt repeated the question.

  "Y-y-yes," faltered the girl.

  "My name's King," answered Matt. "Mr. Jerrold sent me a telegram andasked me to come here to-night."

  The girl leaned forward eagerly as though she would say something.Before she could speak, if she had intended to, a sound as of some onemoving in the darkness behind her, caused her to draw back.

  "Please come in," she said breathlessly.

  Matt entered the hall. The girl closed the door behind him and then,with the lamp shaking in her hand, led him into a room off the hall.

  The room was evidently a parlor, although its furniture was meager andshabby.

  "Please sit down," said the girl, placing the lamp on a table. "Mr.B--Mr. Jerrold will be here in a few moments. Would you like to readwhile you're waiting?"

  Matt started to decline, but the girl had already picked up a book fromthe table, opened it and was handing it to him.

  He looked at her in astonishment. From her frightened face his eyesfell to the book that was quivering in her hand. There was an appeal inher manner which caused him to take the book.

  "Thank you," said he.

  The book was opened at the fly leaf. On the leaf was written thefollowing:

  "You are trapped. I would have warned you, if I could, but he would have killed me. Now you are in the house, you can't get away. Do whatever you are told to do and all will be well. Lay the book back on the table, and don't let any one know what you have read here."

  Matt was astounded. Trapped! And he had walked into the trap with hiseyes wide open!

  Who was the girl and why had she run the risk to warn him? And whatgood was her warning to do if he did not take advantage of it and makehis escape?

  "Now you are in the house, you can't get away."

  He read those words again, and after he had read them he looked aboutthe room curiously. There were two windows in the room and they werescreened with thick curtains. Matt, however, could see no one. If thetrap had been sprung where were the ones who had sprung it?

  He realized that if he made an attempt to get out of the house now,those who had entrapped him would immediately conclude that the girlhad given him a warning. Thus he would not only fail to get away, butwould bring punishment upon the girl for her attempt to help him.

  "Do whatever you are told to do and all will be well."

  He read that over again and made up his mind that he would follow theadvice. He laid the book back on the table, and, just at that moment,the girl re-entered the room.

  "I have read that book," said he.

  "Here's a newspaper," said she.

  As she held the paper in front of him she pointed to an article,evidently intending that he should read it.

  The girl was a mystery to Matt. From her manner there was no doubtabout her being anxious to do whatever she could to shield him.

  Leaving the paper in his hands, she walked over to the table, openedthe book and deftly extracted the fly leaf. Then she vanished from theroom once more.

  Matt drew his chair closer to the table so that he could get the fullbenefit of the dim light.

  The first thing he noticed was that the paper was a week old. It was aChicago daily. The column to which the girl had called his attentionwas headed, "Burglaries Continue! Astonishing Series of Robberies inSouth Chicago are Still Kept Up! Thieves Make Off With Loot and LeaveNot a Clue Behind! Police Authorities Baffled! Latest Victims Hartz &Greer, Jewelers!"

  Here followed an account dealing with a number of mysteriousburglaries, but Matt, because of the danger in which he found himself,did not give the article the attention he would otherwise have done.

  He did wonder, however, why it was that the girl had pointed out thearticle to him. While he was wondering, a step sounded in the hall anda form showed itself in the hall door.

  The man was Brady!

  Matt sprang up. Brady came into the room with an easy air and gave ventto a short laugh.

  He was quite a different looking man when out of his greasyoverclothes, but there was no doubting his identity. Matt's fist hadleft a bruise on the side of Brady's face, and the spot was coveredwith a square of court-plaster.

  "Surprised?" queried Brady, dropping into a chair.

  Before seating himself he was careful to draw the chair in front of thehall door.

  "Were you the one who sent me that telegram?" asked Matt.

  "Guilty!" was the chuckling response. "You were expecting to meetJerrold, eh? I was a little in doubt as to whether you'd bite at thebait, but took a chance. You're a mighty accommodating young fellow,King. Why, you came all the way out here, at this time of night, justto give Jerrold those papers! Didn't it strike you as being a littlebit queer that Jerrold should have asked you to come and see him whenit was his business to go and see you? And then, again, how did youthink Jerrold got hold of your name and address? Oh, well, you've a lotto learn yet, my lad."

  "I'm learning you pretty fast, Brady," said Matt. "You have fooled me,b
ut you've gained nothing by it."

  "I think I have," was the other's cool reply.

  "You'll not get that bundle of papers."

  "No? Haven't you got them with you?"

  "I left them where they'd be safe."

  "Then you suspected there was something a little off-color about thattelegram?"

  "Yes."

  "Plucky boy! Nevertheless, you dropped into my trap, and that's themain thing. Those papers cost me a good deal of scheming, and if youwere really thoughtful enough to leave them in a safe place, I'm mightysorry."

  "You can search me," said Matt, "if you're not willing to take my word."

  "I'll search you quick enough."

  "Then hurry up; I want to get away from here."

  "Those papers are not the whole of it," went on Brady. "I want to makeyou a proposition, King. I need a motorist for the Hawk, and I thinkyou'd about fill the bill. How would five hundred a month strike you?"

  "Five thousand a month wouldn't strike me. In the first place, Mr.Brady, I don't like your methods and wouldn't work for you at anyprice; and, in the next place, I am already in the employ of theLestrange people."

  "You'll work for me all right whether you like my methods or not."There was an ugly look in Brady's eyes and an ugly note in his voice."You're just the sort of youngster I need, and now that I've got a gripon you I don't intend to let you get away."

  "It takes two to make that sort of a bargain!"

  Matt had edged around toward one of the windows with the intention ofmaking a break through the door.

  Brady got up.

  "What are you waiting for, Pete?" he called.

  Matt turned a quick gaze about him, wondering from which direction Petewas to appear. Then, quick as a lightning flash, the curtain behind himgave way and fell in smothering folds over his head and shoulders. Twobrawny arms encircled him like the jaws of a vise.

  He fought with all his strength, and tried to yell to Carl. But oneeffort was as ineffectual as the other.

  Pete and Brady had him between them, and he was utterly powerless.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels