ore the half was over."

So for two nights Dick and Dave kept out, with equally bad luck.

One night at eleven o'clock Dick answered the home telephone.
He listened in amazement, then tried to find out who his informant
was, but the latter rang off promptly.

"I believe that is straight," muttered Dick. "At all events,
I'll look into this game for all it's worth. What if we are about
to catch the thief red-handed?"

Snatching up a heavy walking stick, Dick Prescott hurriedly quitted
the house.

CHAPTER XXIII

The Plight of the Innocent

If the information that had come over the wire from an unknown
was correct there was not a moment to be lost in telephoning.

It was a masculine voice that had sounded in the 'phone and the
message was to the effect that the sender of the message had just
observed two men forcing the rear entrance of Kahn's drygoods
store.

"And hearing that 'The Blade' is trying to catch the burglars
I thought I'd just let you know," the voice had continued. "But
I guess you'll have to be quick if you want a sight of the burglars.
They'll probably get away in quick order."

Then had come the ring-off, just as Dick had tried to get the
name of his informant.

Now Dick was sprinting toward the scene by the shortest route
that he could think of.

Kahn's store was on Main Street, but the rear entrance, used for
the receipt of goods opened in off an alleyway that ran parallel
with Main Street.

"There can't be much time to spare," muttered Dick, looking hard
for a policeman.

At this late hour of the night the streets that Dick traveled
in his haste were bare of pedestrians.

"I wish I had had time to get Dave," though Prescott. "But that
would have lost at least five minutes more. And Dave wasn't going
to be ready to go out until he came around for me nearer midnight."

Dick was at the head of the alley, now, an moving cautiously,
eyes wide open and ears on the alert.

How dark it was down in here! Dick wondered, a moment, at the
keenness of vision that had enabled some neighbor to see what
was going on over in this dark place.

In his pocket, at the time of receiving the message, Prescott
had placed a pocket electric "search-light."

This he thought of, now, but he did not deem it wise to go flashing
the light about unless he had to.

"The first point in my information is right, anyway," muttered
Dick. "The rear door of Kahn's is open."

Moving in the shadow of