"Did they take him into the room?" burst out Ned.
The Italian nodded.
"Yes, dey takea heem in. I geeva heem to them," said the man indifferently.
"Great heavens, they invented that story about his robbing them," cried Billy. "They've made him a prisoner. We must get him out. Jack! Jack!"
No answer came and then Billy, regardless of consequences, flung himself against the door of the room the Italian had indicated. By this time quite a crowd of tenement dwellers had assembled, attracted by the loud voices. At first the door stood firm, but when Ned joined Billy it gave way with a bang, precipitating them into the room.
But now a new voice was added to the uproar. Hans Pumpernickel, a sour old German who owned the tenements and lived there to save rent in a better quarter, put in an appearance.
"Vos is los?" he demanded, "ach himmel, de door vos busted py der outside. Who did dis?"
"We did," said Billy boldly. "My chum was decoyed into this house by some bad characters. This was the room they occupied. But he isn't here."
"Ach du liebe! Vos iss idt I care aboupt your droubles? I haf mein own."
"We'll find Jack if we go through this house from cellar to attic," declared Ned.