n?"

"Well, you see, I was a detective," said Bob, with a show of pride.

"A detective!" exclaimed the young Vermonter, looking at his friend with
the innocent wonder of a country boy.

"Yes, but I hain't got no time to tell you about it now. We must be
movin', you see."

"So we must," replied Herbert.

Doubtless old Gunwagner, too, would have liked much to hear Bob relate
how he discovered his friend's prison. But even this small satisfaction
was denied him.

"What's the first move?" said Bob.

"I have been thinking about that," replied our hero.

"Of course, we must have him arrested."

"Certainly we must."

"Oh, no, don't, don't!" pleaded the old man, speaking for the first
time.

"It is too late to plead now," said young Randolph. "You should have
thought of this before committing the evil that you have done."

"But I am an old man, and he led me into it."

"Who?"

"Mortimer, Felix Mortimer. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't er done
it."

"Oh, that don't go with us," said Bob. "I heard the whole story tonight.
You was into the game with him, and now you're trapped you wanter
squeal, that's what you do. But it won't do you no good. You are a bad
lot from way back--gettin' boys to steal things for you!"

This was a revelation to young Randolph, as he did not know until now
that old Gunwagner kept a fence.

"Don't have me arrested, boys," whined the old villain, now trying to
work on their sympathy. "It would kill me. I am so old."

"Do you expect sympathy from me, after your heartless treatment?" said
Herbert.

"He made me do it," was the reply, referring to Mortimer.

"Nonsense, you could have taken me out of that old cellar if you had
wanted to do so."

"Yes, and do you think you would er showed me any sympathy, if you'd got
me into your clutches alone?" put in Bob.

"I wouldn't have been hard on you."

"No, you wouldn't," said the young detective, sarcastically. "Your talk
tonight, when I was hid away, sounded as if you wouldn't er been hard on
me--oh, no, you wouldn't. I could tell that from the way you plunged at
me just now, when you came through that door with your war paint on."

CHAPTER XVII.

BOB GOES FOR AN OFFICER.

Old Gunwagner saw quite clearly that any further effort to play upon the
boys' sympathy was useless.

The first shock of his surprise was over, and now the subtle cunning of
his nature began to reassert itself.

"Boys, you have the advantage of