“If—if you can—get hold of this—this person,” faltered Wolfe.
“I’ll try it,” said Duncan promptly. “Meet me at Fred’s about eight this evening. I’ll let you know, what success I’ve had and whether we’ll try this holdup scheme or not.”
“All right,” said Bern, turning toward the door; “I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER LI.
THE HOLDUP.
Dick and Brad, in a jovial mood, were returning from their evening call. It was about nine-thirty, and the night was dark, with a raw wind from Long Island Sound.
“This is a rather dark old corner,” observed Dick, as they started to turn into another street. “Wonder what’s the matter with the street light here? It doesn’t seem to be attending to its duties this evening.”
“Gone on a strike, perhaps,” observed Brad, with a chuckle. “This would be a good place to——”
“Hold up your hands!” commanded a hoarse voice, as two masked figures suddenly sprang out before them.
One seemed to be a big man, while the other was a rather undersized chap. Both held their arms outstretched, and, despite the darkness, the boys fancied they caught the gleam of nickel-plated revolvers held in the hands of the masked men.
“Be quick about it, youse fellers!” growled the one who had ordered them to put up their hands. “H’ist your paws if you don’t want to git the tops of yer heads blew off! Put ’em up, I say!”