“Probably they won’t, not ’less they think he will blow on ’em. You see they’ve got to look out for themselves.”
“That’s so, Bob, but why couldn’t they send him off somewhere so he couldn’t blow on ’em?”
“They might do that, too.”
“But they would get him so far away he couldn’t get back to New York never, I suppose?”
“Yes, that’s the idea. They might run him off to sea, and put him on an island, or somethin’ like that. I can’t say just what they might do if they have their own way. But the idea is this, Tom Flannery, we must stop ’em,” said Bob, emphatically, “you and me. We’ve got to find out where he is, and rescue him.”
“That’s the boss idea, Bob,” replied Tom, with emphasis. “But I don’t see just how we’re goin’ to do it, do you?”
“Well, no, I can’t see the whole game, not now. But we must commence, and when we get a few points, we can slide ahead faster.”
“I wouldn’t know how to commence.”
“Well, I do; I thought that all out last night, and I’m only waiting till ten o’clock. Then I’ll steer for the bank where Herbert worked.”
“Bob, you beat all the boys I know of,” said Tom, eying him with admiration. “None of ’em would ever think of doin’ the things you do, and they couldn’t do ’em if they did, that’s all. And now you’re goin’ to do the detective act!”