“It’s all nonsense,” thought Larry to himself, as he began to dress. “I’m thinking too much about this. I’m getting to be as nervous and fidgety as a girl. I must go to work, and forget all about it.”
He walked over to the bureau for his collar. As he picked it up his attention was attracted by a piece of paper pinned to the bureau cover.
“That’s queer,” he remarked, “I don’t remember putting that there. I wonder if I’m beginning to walk in my sleep, and write notes to myself.”
He unpinned the paper. It was folded several times, and when Larry had opened it, he saw printed in large letters this message:
“FOUR DAYS MORE. BLUE HAND.”
Larry did not disguise from himself the fact that he was frightened. That the gang had not given up the matter, but was acting along the lines the members had laid down, seemed certain. It showed also that they were keeping close watch of the time, and of Larry’s movements.
“That must have been what the noises were I heard out on the roof,” Larry mused, as he finished dressing. “They are certainly a bold band to come into my room at night, and pin this here. They ran the risk of being taken for burglars, and, though I haven’t a revolver to shoot, someone who saw them on the fire-escape might put a bullet into them.”
That he was being watched by a desperate gang, who had possession of his deed, and who would go to almost any length to accomplish their purpose, Larry had no doubt. He felt more than ever the necessity of guarding his little brother, yet he did not know how to do it.
To speak to his mother, Larry felt, would only cause her so much alarm that it might make her ill, as her health was not very good. As for Jimmy he was too small to appreciate his danger, even if he had been told. The only thing to do was to make him believe in the danger of automobiles, and have him keep close to the house.
Yet even that might count for little, seeing that the members of the gang had shown that they did not fear to enter the house, giving no warning.