"She sent for the police," chuckled Dick Prescott.
"Of course," grinned Dave.
The peeping boys saw the officer step through into the old maid's sitting room. Miss Lowthry pointed at the basket in a highly dramatic way. The policeman bent over to take a kindly look at the tiny youngster therein, then adjusting the pieces of blanket, he lifted the basket.
"Now, it's time to do your turn, Hoof," whispered Dick, giving young Sadby a nudge. "Slip over the fence and do it right."
Miss Lowthry followed the policeman to the door, opening it for him and letting him out.
"Boo-hoo!" sounded a heart-broken voice out on the sidewalk, in the darkness beyond. Then, as the policeman stepped down from the steps, Hoof suddenly let out a wail and darted into the yard.
"Say, Mister Cop, have you got it?" demanded Hoof eagerly.
"Got what?" demanded the policeman.
"My baby brother! You see, Mister Cop, some fellows took my baby brother and carried him off for a joke."
Then Hoof came into the pale light that was shed just past the open front door. There were tears in his eyes, all right, for an onion was one of the things that "Wrecker" Lane had brought from home. Hoof had rubbed a slice of the onion on the skin under his eyes, and the tears that he wanted to show were genuine enough.