Flannery's admiration.

"Now this is what I call bein' detectives, Bob," whispered he.
"Gewhittaker, I didn't think, though, you could do it so grand. I don't
believe nobody could beat you."

Bob nodded his approval of the compliment, and then addressed himself to
the young lad.

"I want you," said he, "to take me in and say I'm a friend of yours who
wants to sell somethin'. You needn't do nothin' more. Every detective
puts up jobs like this, so 'tain't tellin' nothin' wrong."

Then, turning to his companion, he added:

"Now, Tom, if this boy ain't square, and he does anything so I get into
Gunwagner's clutches, and can't get out, why I want you to go for an
officer, and come and arrest this boy and the whole gang."

The lad trembled. "I won't do nothin'," he protested. "I'll do just what
you want me to."

"All right; you do so, and you'll save yourself a visit to the Island.
Now, when I am talking with old Gunwagner, if I tell you to come outside
and get the package I left at the door, why, you come jest as if I did
have it there, and you come right straight for Tom, and he will tell you
what to do. And mind you be sure and don't close the outside door, for I
want you to leave it so you and Tom can get in without ringing the
bell, for that's the secret of the whole job."

The boy readily assented to Bob's conditions and commands, and then the
chief gave his companion secret instructions, to be acted upon after he
himself had gone into the very den of the old fence.

CHAPTER XIII.

A TERRIBLE FEAR.

It was towards morning when Herbert Randolph fell asleep on the night of
his imprisonment. He had fought manfully to keep awake, dreading the
consequences of slumber, but tired nature gave way at last, and our
young hero slept, unconscious now of danger.

The rats that he so much feared still frolicked, and prowled, and
gnawed, as they had done for hours. They climbed upon boxes and barrels,
and made their way into every corner and crevice. Everything was
inspected by them.

More inquisitive rats than these never infested the metropolis. Now
they went in droves, and scampered from place to place like a flock of
frightened sheep. Then they strayed apart and prowled for a time alone.
An occasional fight came off by way of variety, and in these battles the
vanquished, and perhaps their supporters, often squealed like so many
young pigs.

Thus the carousal continued hour after hour, and that old Gunwag