“Something is wrong!” murmured Dave.
Mr. Porter came bounding up the stairs two steps at a time. Dave and the other boys met him in the hallway.
“What is it, Dad?” asked the son.
“Robbers—at the jewelry works!” panted David Porter. “I must notify Mr. Wadsworth!” And he ran to a near-by door and pounded on it.
“What is it?” came sleepily from the rich manufacturer. He had heard nothing of the telephone call, being down deep in the covers because of the cold.
“Mr. Wadsworth, get up, get up instantly!” cried Mr. Porter. “You are wanted at the jewelry works. I just got something of a message from your watchman. Some robbers have blown open your safes and they attacked the man, but he got away long enough to telephone. But then they attacked him again, while he was talking to me! We’ll have to get down there at once!”
“Roger, did you hear that?” gasped Dave. “That’s the noise we heard!”
“Yes, and they attacked the watchman,” responded the senator’s son.
“I’m going back there,” went on Dave. “The others will have to stop and dress. Maybe we can catch those rascals.”
“Yes, and save the watchman, Dave!”