"I heard about you," remarked Mort Decker to Bert, when the next night he called at Cole's barn. "First thing you know you'll be getting offers from some big city department."
"Oh, I guess not. But how are things at the house of mystery? Have you discovered anything new?"
The two had walked out from the barn, to converse alone.
"I don't like the way things are going," replied the stenographer. "Muchmore gave me several other deeds to copy to-day, and in some he had me change the descriptions and names. I don't like it. I'm sure, now, that he is a crook."
"Can you do anything?"
"That's just what I was thinking about. I have an idea he has some person a prisoner on that top floor, whom he is holding there until that person does as he wants, in the matter of some property."
"If we could only get word to Mr. Stockton," said Bert, "he might call in the authorities."
"Yes, if we could, that would be the very thing. But I don't know how to do it. I wrote him a letter, and mailed it in the post-office, but a little later I saw it on Muchmore's table. He must get Mr. Stockton's mail, and forward it. And now I think Muchmore suspects me, because he probably opened that letter I wrote to his uncle. So we may as well take the bull by the horns, and do something."
"Yes; but what?"
Mort looked around to see that no one would overhear him.