THE SEARCH FOR JACK.

The two boys, with their hearts heavy as lead, ascended the stairs calling for Jack. On the second floor, as they reached it, a door was suddenly flung open.

"Be jabers, stop that racket. Can't yez be lettin' a dacent family slape in pace?"

Another door flew open and a black, woolly head was poked out.

"What fo' you alls come makin' such a cumsturbance at dis yar hour ob de night?"

"We're looking for a boy who we think has been trapped in this building. Have you seen anything of him?" asked Ned.

"Sure and I haven't. This is a dacent house and dacent folks. Go along wid yer now and let us slape."

"By gollys we don't kidsnap no boys," came from the negro.

Another door was opened and the Italian who had caught Jack in the hall came out.

"Whatsa da mat'?" he asked.

"We're looking for a boy, our chum. He came into this house two hours ago. We're afraid he——" burst out Billy desperately.

"I see-a da boy in deesa hall," said the Italian. "I teenka heem sneaka teef. I catcha heem but two men and a boy in data rooma dere dey taka heem. Dey say dat he robba heem and they getta even."

"Did they take him into the room?" burst out Ned.

The Italian nodded.

"Yes, dey takea heem in. I geeva heem to them," said the man indifferently.

"Great heavens, they invented that story about his robbing them," cried Billy. "They've made him a prisoner. We must get him out. Jack! Jack!"

No answer came and then Billy, regardless of consequences, flung himself against the door of the room the Italian had indicated. By this time quite a crowd of tenement dwellers had assembled, attracted by the loud voices. At first the door stood firm, but when Ned joined Billy it gave way with a bang, precipitating them into the room.

But now a new voice was added to the uproar. Hans Pumpernickel, a sour old German who owned the tenements and lived there to save rent in a better quarter, put in an appearance.

"Vos is los?" he demanded, "ach himmel, de door vos busted py der outside. Who did dis?"

"We did," said Billy boldly. "My chum was decoyed into this house by some bad characters. This was the room they occupied. But he isn't here."

"Ach du liebe! Vos iss idt I care aboupt your droubles? I haf mein own."

"We'll find Jack if we go through this house from cellar to attic," declared Ned.

"I dond pelief dot boy vos harmed by der men dot hadt idt dis room," declared the crabbed old man. "Dey vos very respectable. Now you pay me for dot door undt den go aboudt your pusiness."

"If you interfere with us we'll call in the police," said Billy.

"Yes, if you want to keep out of trouble, you'll help us," said Ned boldly.

"Is dot so? Undt who iss you?"

"I'm the son of Senator Rivers of Nebraska."

The landlord's jaw dropped. He grew more respectful.

"Vell, vot am I to do?" he asked.

"Don't interfere with us. We'll pay for this door. Hullo, what's that on the floor?" exclaimed Billy. "Why, it's Jack's knife. But where is he?"

"Den dose nice mens, Mr. Jenkins undt Mister Thompson are kidsnabbers," exclaimed the landlord.

"Are those the names they gave?" asked Billy.

"Ches. Dey pay idt me a month in advance. Dey vost nice gentlemen."

"Yes, very nice," exclaimed Billy bitterly. "However, knowing those names may give a clew later on."

They searched for several hours but found no further trace of Jack. At last, tired out and sick at heart, they returned home. Billy accepted Ned's invitation to stay at the latter's house that night and to lay the matter before the Senator in the morning.


Half stunned, Jack lay still for some time on the moldy straw and the old newspapers in the coal bin in the cellar. But at length he mustered his strength and rose, rather giddily, to his feet.

"Well, this is the limit of tough luck," he complained. "If I don't get out of here before to-morrow, when that steamer sails, the code will have gone for good. If only I'd cut away sooner. Confound that Italian. He spoiled it all with his stupidity."

Besides being pitch dark, the place was full of cobwebs. To add to Jack's discomfort, a spider occasionally dropped on him. Suddenly overhead sounded footsteps and voices.

"Somebody lives up there," he thought. "If I could only attract their attention."

He shouted but nobody answered, although he tried it at intervals for some hours. At last he gave up and sat down on the pile of straw to think. He was very thirsty and his mouth and eyes were full of coal dust and dirt. The roof of the cellar was so low, too, that in moving about he bumped his head-against the beams.

Suddenly he remembered that he had some matches. To strike a light was the work of a moment. Then he located the door. But all his efforts failed to make it budge. He struck another light and this time he made a discovery.

"Gee whiz, that looks like a trap-door just above me," he decided.

He raised his hands and the cut-out square in the flooring came up with ease. Jack scrambled up into a kitchen. In one corner was a ladder, no doubt used when the occupants wished to enter the cellar. Through one of the windows daylight was streaming, the gray light of early dawn.

"Great Scott! I've been down there all night," ejaculated the boy.

He was considering his next step when a large woman, with stout red arms, came into the kitchen. Her husband had to be at work early and she was about to prepare his breakfast. She had a florid, disagreeable face.

"What are you after doing here?" she demanded, picking up a heavy rolling pin.

"I'm trying to get out of this house. Will you show me the way?"

"Indade and I will not. I'll hand yez over ter the perlice." She raised her voice.

"Pat! Pat! come here at onct."

"Phwat's the mather?" came from another room.

"Thare's a thafe forninst the kitchen. Get ther perlice. I'll hold him—he's only a gossoon."

"Are you crazy?" demanded Jack. "I was locked in that cellar by some rascals and got out through your trap-door."

"Tell that to the marines," sneered the woman, as she made a grab for him.

Jack wrenched himself away and dodged a blow from the rolling-pin. The window was open and it was a short drop to the yard. He darted for the window and made the jump.

"Pat! Pat!" yelled the woman.

Jack leaped over a fence at the back of the yard and found himself in an alley. He ran for his life. Behind him came cries of pursuit but they soon died away. He ran for several blocks, however, and then came to a standstill.

"I guess Ned and Billy went home," he mused. "I'd better hunt up Ned. If his father is a Senator he may be able to use some influence to catch these rascals before they get away for good. I wonder what time that ship sails? By the way, I don't know her name."

At the hotel, to which he went first, he slipped up to his room without attracting much attention and washed off the dirt of the cellar. Then he inquired for Billy and learned that Raynor had telephoned the night before that he was going to stop at Senator Rivers' house and for Jack to come straight over there, if he came in. Jack procured a copy of a commercial newspaper which he knew listed sailings of ships from all important ports. He turned to the Baltimore section. Half way down the column he found this entry:

"Italian-American Line. S.S. Southern Star,—Balto., for Naples, Italy. Sails—A.M. (hour indefinite). Mixed cargo. Ten passengers."

"Hurrah! That's the ship, all right," thought Jack, "there's a chance yet that we can stop them."


CHAPTER XXXV.