“About eight blocks south, in a little shanty. I know his nephew from Cincinnati has been staying with him. Anybody down there can tell you where Briggs lives.”
Leonard thanked the woman and returned to the waiting automobile. He told the girls what he had learned, and Shirley drove the car in the direction of Briggs’ home.
“Better stop a block away,” said Leonard.
Shirley did so, and again Leonard climbed out. Through inquiry he learned which was Briggs’ house and hastened to it. An old man answered his knock.
“Are you Mr. Briggs?” asked Leonard.
“Yes,” was the reply. “What do you want?”
There was something in the man’s manner that convinced Leonard he was on the right track. He determined to try a bold shot.
“I want to see your prisoner,” he said sternly.
“Prisoner,” echoed the old man, taking a step backward. “What prisoner?”
“The boy you are holding for Jones.”