"Jimmy wants me? Where is he? What has happened?"
Dick felt a sudden fear.
"He's hurted a little bit—not much," went on Bulldog, "and he was took inter a house. He wants youse t' come. Will yer?"
"Of course. Do you know where he is?"
"Sure. I seen him a while ago. He ain't hurt bad. If youse'll come wit' me I'll show youse."
"Wait until I get my coat on and I'll come with you."
Dick followed his former enemy out of the lodging-house. He had no reason to suspect anything, for, of late, Bulldog had been rather friendly than otherwise.
Dick followed his guide into one of the worst parts of New York, but had little fear, as he had, more or less, become used to traveling about the slums with Jimmy. Bulldog led the way down through a dirty alley and into a ramschackle tenement.
"He's right upstairs," he said. "Come on."
Dick followed in the semi-darkness, illuminated by only a flaring kerosene lamp. Bulldog went into a room, and Dick, expecting to see his partner lying hurt on a bed or lounge, was surprised to see no one in the place.