Bill burst into the room and stood breathless before them.
“Did you get the police?” asked Dorothy.
“Got headquarters all right. But what do you think’s happened?”
“Spill it, Bill. This is no guessing bee,” said Terry.
“The sergeant told me they’d had a phone call from Lewis. The old man was frantic. Joyce and his gang were trying to break into his house. The whole caboodle from headquarters are up there now, rounding up John J. Joyce and Company.”
“That accounts for the shots we heard,” cried Dorothy. “Get on your rubbers, Terry. We’re going to hike over to Mr. Lewis’s place right now. I want to be in at the finish.”
“And I,” added Bill, “want to find out what this mess is about!”
They raced downstairs and stopping only long enough to tell Liza and Uncle Abe of this new development, set off for the Lewis property adjoining.
Following hasty directions given them by the darkies, they hurried along a path which led them to a gate in a high wall. The gate was not locked and they continued along the path which crossed the Lewis estate. Presently the dim shape of a large white house appeared through the mist.
“Halt!” A gruff voice arrested them as they were about to ascend the steps at the side entrance. A state trooper barred their way. “Who are you—and what do you want?”