Captured!

The two days were up. Jack and Ken, waiting for Paul, sat idly about at the latter’s garage. It was early morning, about nine o’clock and the day was clear and warm. Soon Paul appeared and he sat down near his friends on a box. “All right, fellows,” he said, “what’s to be our first move?”

“Go down to the cellar,” suggested Jack. “It’s early morning and probably no one will be there. We will have at least a couple of hours in which to look around.”

“Yes, and perhaps we will find the secret door,” added Ken.

“Let’s go, then,” said Paul.

Jack picked up the baseball bat and followed. “Again you’re bringing along your bat,” remarked Paul.

“Sure. It may come in handy.”

“You’re right. It might not be a bad idea for Ken and I also to take along some sort of weapon.”

They stopped and looked around. Finding a stray broom handle, Ken sawed it into three pieces and Jack discarded his bat. Putting their weapons out of sight, they walked off. “How will we manage it?” asked Ken.

“We will do it the same as last time,” suggested Paul. “You will stay outside and keep a careful watch while Jack and I will go down. Is that agreeable?”

Ken nodded. “It’s all right with me.”

Before they reached the empty house, Jack suggested that they take a look at the house in its rear, where no doubt the secret door was situated. His companions thought it was a good idea and they proceeded to do so.

Ken took his place at one corner and Paul, by walking around the block, took his place at the opposite corner. When all was ready, Jack very innocently walked down the street on the wrong side. The house under suspicion was a one family brick building with a stoop leading up to the front door; at the ground level were noticeable the small windows of the cellar. From all appearances, the house was occupied; there were curtains in the windows, several flower pots were distributed on the small porch and a rubber hose lay on the ground not far from the house.

As Jack reached the corner, he took over Ken’s place and the latter strolled nonchalantly up the street, noticing everything within sight of the house. The boys got together again and discussed their impressions of the house. “Very innocent looking as far as I could see,” remarked Ken.

“Don’t let that fool you,” asserted Paul.

The boys proceeded to the empty house. Careful not to be seen as they entered the yard, they put their ears to the ground to find out whether the printing press was in motion. Satisfied that everything was quiet below as far as they could judge they prepared for action.

Ken took his place prepared to watch, while Jack and Paul moved off and entered the house. Closing the door quietly behind them, they entered the first room on their right. Moving very cautiously, they approached the spot where the trap door was supposed to be. But at first they could not find the small piece of wood that came out of the floor. Both boys frantically hunted for that piece of wood. After about fifteen minutes of digging their nails into the floor in wild search, Jack at last came upon it and lifted it out of the floor.

Paul lifted the trap door and began to descend. Their hearts were aflutter with excitement. What awaited them below? Would they come to trouble? Would they come to grips with the gangsters? Both boys had had a taste of their medicine, but that didn’t discourage them nor were they intimidated. Grasping firmly their short sticks, they walked down the steps.

It was dark below, and that was a good sign. Each of the boys carried a flashlight and lit up their way. Jack closed the trap door over his head and followed Paul. At the bottom of the stairs, Paul waited for his friend. A beam of light went all around the room and came to rest on the table. About five or six bills lay sprawled on the wooden table. Jack whispered, “Look.”

Paul nodded. Together they approached the table and looked at the money bills. There were two fives, two tens and a twenty dollar bill. “Counterfeit,” whispered Paul.

Jack picked one up and slipped it into his pocket. They returned to the end of the room and began a thorough search, working from one end of the room to the other. There were several pieces of clothing, many rags, various packages, and other things, such as tools and machinery about which they knew nothing. They paused to examine the printing press very carefully. They moved on. Jack whispered, “Let’s try to find the secret door.”

Paul nodded. “It must be over the other way,” he whispered back.

They proceeded to the other end of the cellar. A beam of light moved back and forth over the wall, but no sign of a door. They tapped and groped at the wall but with no success. Suddenly their hearts fell. The faint noise of footsteps on the other side of the wall came to them. Their minds were in a whirl. What were they to do? Were they to be captured? If so what would happen to them? They already had a taste of what the gang did to anyone spying on them. What would they do now? All these thoughts flashed through their minds in an instant. Paul whispered, “Hide.”

Paul dived behind a bunch of rags and pulled several of the rags over him. But Jack was not so quick. At his corner, there was no ready hiding place for him to run to. And he was still looking for one as the electric light flashed on and part of the middle of the wall was pushed open. In a flash, he noticed how the door worked; the handle of the door was pushed through on the other side, and thus a means was left for an exit; but on leaving, if the handle was pulled in, whoever was in the cellar was either imprisoned or had to use the trap door in the empty house.

As the door was thrown open, the two gangsters whom Paul had noticed with the fat fellow and the grocery man, stepped forth. Seeing Jack, one of them whipped a revolver out of his hip pocket. The second one, however, grabbed his mate by the arm and exclaimed, “Don’t shoot. He is only a kid.”

Advancing to Jack, the second one demanded, “What are you doing here?”

Jack held his breath and tried not to look in the direction where his chum was hiding. “Just happen to be here,” he answered, his heart in his mouth, wondering what they would do to him.

The gangster became angry and boisterous. “I know you happen to be here,” he cried as he gave the boy a shove that sent him sprawling. “But how do you happen to be here, that’s what I want to know.”

Jack picked himself up. The first man, with his gun still in his hand, mumbled to his companion, “Wait a minute, Pete, somebody else may be here. Let’s look around.”

“Okey, Joe. Keep this fellow covered while I look around.”

He took his gun out of his pocket and let his eyes wander about the cellar. He spied the bundle of rags. Levelling the gun at it, he cried, “If you’re hiding there behind the rags, you better come out or I’ll shoot.”

Paul thought he had better not take any chances and slowly he rose, with his hands above his head. Joe cried, “I think that’s the guy the boss and I caught the other day and I socked him.”

Pete demanded, “Are there any more of you in here?”

Paul shook his head. Out of the corner of their eyes, the boys glanced at each other. Both were pale and tense, but not frightened. Pete raised his fist threateningly and scowled, “If you’re lying, I’ll knock your block off.”

Paul said, “If you don’t believe me why don’t you look around and see for yourself.”

That seemed to satisfy the gangster and he lowered his arm. “What are you doing here?” he again demanded.

“We came upon the trap door by accident,” replied Paul undaunted, “and we thought we would look and see what it was all about.”

“You’re sure you don’t know any more than that?”

“What could we know that you don’t want us to know?” asked Paul.

Pete lunged out and hit Paul on the cheek. “That’ll teach you not to get fresh,” he hissed.

“What’ll we do with them?” asked the gangster named Joe, addressing his mate. “You think we ought to dump them?”

“No,” was the snarling reply. “We’ll tie them up and leave it to the boss to do with them as he pleases.”

“What for?” demanded Joe. “They’re a couple of rats and we ought to get rid of them.”

“They’re kids,” argued Pete. “We dump them and you’ll have the cops on our tail.”

“The cops don’t need to know.”

“Never mind. Tie them up and don’t argue.”

The two gangsters faced each other and it seemed that they might get into a quarrel. “I say dump them,” shouted Joe.

“And I say no,” snarled back Pete.

Jack and Paul watched them face each other, leveling their guns. The boys thought it would be good luck if they did fight and kill each other. But in that case there would be shooting and they needed safe places to run to. However, Joe, the weaker of the two, gave in and muttered, “Okey. We’ll tie them up.”

Tearing some rags into strips, Joe tied the boy’s hands and feet and their own handkerchiefs were used to put around their mouths. The job completed, they were tossed into the corner. Pete, who was watching the procedure, now said, “All right. Now grab those two packages and take them to the boss. And ask him what to do with these kids.”

“And what are you gonna do?” Joe asked with malice.

“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on these kids.”

“That’s all right with me,” said Joe. He went to the other end of the cellar and picked up two packages wrapped in plain brown paper. Nodding to his mate, he called, “Okey, I’ll be going now.”

“And don’t take all day coming back,” snarled Pete.

Joe was gone. Pete brought over a chair and leaned it against the wall. Sitting down, he took a penknife out of his pocket, placed his gun in his lap and began to clean his fingernails. “It’s too bad you kids have to pry into things you shouldn’t,” he muttered, addressing himself to the boys without looking at them. “It ain’t healthy. You’re liable to get bumped off one of these days and then where will it get you?” He paused for a moment to think and scratch his head. “Mind your own business is my motto,” he continued. “If everybody would mind their own business, everything would be all right. As it is, people get into the trouble, like you kids, when you shouldn’t.”

He stopped talking. With their hands tied behind their backs, the boys worked feverishly to loosen their bonds. But they had to work without being suspected by their captor. And what’s more, Joe had done a good and expert job. The bonds were tied so strongly they could barely move their wrists.