The Boy Broker Part 14

"Send me in?" exclaimed Tom, incredulously.

"Yes, that's what I said, wasn't it?"

"And that's what a reg'lar detective would do?"

"Yes."

"And that's what you're goin' to do?"

"Yes, of course it is. Why wouldn't I do the same as any other detective? That's what I want to know."

"Of course you would, Bob, but I couldn't do nothin' if I should go in,"

said Tom, gently protesting against the proposed plan of action.

"You can do what I tell you to, can't you?"

"I don't know nothin' about it, any way, I tell you," replied Tom, showing more plainly his disinclination to obedience.

"Tom Flannery, I wouldn't er believed that you would back out this way,"

said Bob, with surprise.

"Well, I don't want to be a detective no way. I don't care nothin' about my name bein' in the paper."

"You hain't got no ambition. If you had, you'd show some s.p.u.n.k now.

'Tain't often a feller has a chance to get into a case like this one is."

"Well, I don't care if it ain't, that's what I say."

"I thought you wanted to be a detective, and couldn't wait, hardly, for me to work up the case."

"Well, I didn't think I'd have to climb into places like this old Gunwagner's. 'Tain't what I call bein' a detective no way."

"You make me tired, Tom Flannery. You get the foolishest notions into your head of any boy I ever see."

"Well, I don't care if I do. I know plenty detectives don't do nothin'

like this. They jest dress up and play the gentleman, that's what they do."

"And that's the kind of a detective you want to be, is it?"

"Yes, it is; there ain't no danger about that kind of bein' a detective."

"Tom, you'd look great tryin' to be a gentleman, wouldn't you? I'd like to see you, Tom Flannery, a gentleman!" said Bob, derisively. "It makes me sick, such talk."

Tom was silent for a time. Evidently he thought there was some ground for Bob's remarks.

But an idea occurred to him now.

"Bob," said he, "if you like bein' this kind of a detective, why don't you go in yourself, instead of sendin' me? Now, answer me that, will you?"

"It wouldn't be reg'lar professional like, and then there wouldn't be no style about it."

Tom made no reply. In fact there seemed nothing further for him to say; Bob's answer left no chance for argument.

The two boys now stood opposite Gunwagner's. Presently a boy with a package in his hand approached the house, and, looking nervously about him, as if he feared he was watched, walked up the stoop and rang the bell three times. He did not see the two young detectives, as they were partially hidden by a big telegraph pole.

After a time the door opened, and he pa.s.sed in. Bob noticed that it was very dark inside, and wondered why no light shone.

"I couldn't get in, nohow, if I wanted to," said Tom, trying to justify himself for his seeming cowardice.

"Does look so," a.s.sented Bob, absentmindedly.

"I wouldn't like to be a prisoner in there; would you, Bob?"

"No, of course I wouldn't."

"I wish we could get your chum out."

"I wish so, too; but you don't s'pose we can do it by standing here, do you?"

"No, but I don't know nothin' to do; do you, Bob?"

"If I told you what to do, you wouldn't do it."

"Well, I didn't see no sense in my goin' in there alone, nohow."

"I did, if you didn't. I wanted you to look round and see what you could find out, and post me, so when I went in I could do the grand act."

"I wouldn't a' got out to post you, Bob. They'd a' kept me--that's what they'd done."

The door now opened, and out came the same boy who but a few minutes before had entered the Gunwagner den. He looked cautiously about him, and then started down the street toward the East River. He was a small boy, of about twelve years of age, while our two detectives were several years his senior. From remarks dropped by Felix Mortimer and Peter Smartweed, Bob surmised that Gunwagner might keep a fence, and the suspicious manner of this small boy confirmed his belief.

"Here's our chance," whispered Bob, nervously. "You follow this boy up, and don't let him get away from you. I'll rush ahead and cut him off.

Keep close to him, so we can corner him when I whistle three times."

"All right," said Tom, with his old show of enthusiasm, and each commenced the pursuit.

Between Allen and Orchard Streets the detectives closed in on the small boy. Bob had put himself fairly in front of him, and Tom followed close behind. The chief detective slackened his pace very perceptibly, and seemed to be trying to make out the number on the house before which he now halted.

"Can you tell me where old Gunwagner lives?" said he, addressing the small boy, who was now about to pa.s.s by.

The boy stopped suddenly, and the color as suddenly left his face.

Bob had purposely chosen this locality, close to a gaslight, so that he might note the effect of his question upon the boy. Now he gave the signal as agreed upon, and Tom instantly came up and took a position that made retreat for the lad impossible. The latter saw this, and burst into tears. Conscious of his own guilt, he needed no further accuser to condemn him.

"Don't take it so hard," said Bob; "you do the square thing, and we won't blow on you--will we, Tom?"

"No, we won't," replied the latter.