“Yes, and it will give you a chance to get back at them for the way they treated you,” remarked Larry.
“There goes the door!” cried the reporter, as a louder crash betokened that the portal had given way. “This will bring everyone in the house out to see what is going on.”
Following the crash there came a series of shrill cries from the apartment below.
“Come on down!” called Mr. Newton to Larry. “We can see better. Besides I want Jones and Douglass to notice that I’m on the job when they get fooled.”
Larry and the reporter raced downstairs. They saw a number of other tenants in the building making their way toward the scene of the disturbance, and the stairway was well crowded.
“Here we go!” cried Mr. Newton as he passed through the burst-in door. “Come on, Larry!”
A strange sight met the gaze of the reporter. On the floor were two of the men who had been in the habit of working in the rooms. On top of each of them sat a detective; Jones on one and Douglass on the other. The men were trying to get up, but the detectives prevented them by holding their heads close to the floor.
In the corner was the third man, and in front of him was a third detective, who had a short club in his hand. Every now and again the detective would jab the man in the stomach with the billy, causing the man to double up like a jumping-jack.
“Keep still!” cried the detective.
“How can I when you keep tickling me with that club!” exclaimed the man.