“This must be the place!” exclaimed the young reporter under his breath.
The next instant he heard from behind the door a cry as of someone in pain or distress, and to Larry the voice sounded like that of his kidnapped brother.
“I wonder—I wonder if Jimmy can be in there!” he gasped.
Once more the stifled cry sounded, and Larry’s heart almost stopped beating. He was sure he had found his brother. He sprang forward, and rapped loudly on the door. Instantly there sounded a shuffling of feet from behind the portal. Then all grew still.
“Let me in!” cried Larry.
He paused for a reply. Then he knocked again, and kicked with his feet on the door, but no one answered, and the sturdy oaken portal was not opened. Larry was much excited. He wanted to break down the barrier, and see what was beyond it. He wanted to rush in, and, if his brother was there, to tear him away from the men who had kidnapped him.
“I’d better go for help,” Larry said to himself, at length. “I can’t do anything alone. Anyhow, I’ve located the Rising Sun crowd. I’d better not make too much of a fuss, or they’ll suspect I’m after them, and move away.”
He hurried downstairs, wishing he could find Mr. Newton at once, instead of waiting until night, when the older reporter had promised Larry to call at the Dexter house.
“I suppose he’s trailing the end from the sign of the blue hand,” thought Larry.
He had half a mind to see if he could not locate the gang’s former headquarters, but he feared that the quest might lead him into trouble. Also, he did not want to spoil any plans Mr. Newton had made.