his Randolph."

"And he is the boy that the old banker told you about?"

"Yes; the newsboy who said some foul play had overtaken Randolph."

The old fence looked exceedingly troubled.

"We must capture this young Arab," said he, emphatically, after a few
moments' careful thought.

Bob's ears missed nothing. This conversation interested him through and
through.

"Arab!" said he to himself. "If I don't get caught I'll show you whether
I'm an Arab or not."

"Perhaps he is already in there," suggested Mortimer again.

"We will go down cellar and see," said the old man. "He might have gone
down through that trap door while we was out."

"That's what I thought; and he and Randolph may already be hatching up
some plan for escaping," said Felix.

Why old Gunwagner neglected to search the big box under the counter is
inexplicable. Possibly the hand of destiny shielded the young detective,
for he was on an errand of mercy.

The old man and Felix now descended the stairs into the cellar, and
commenced their search for the strange boy who had so thoroughly alarmed
them.

CHAPTER XV.

BOB AND HERBERT MEET.

"Well, I can't understand it," said Felix, as he and the old fence came
up from the cellar. "He certainly isn't down there."

"No, he ain't here, that's sure," replied Gunwagner; "but if it was the
newsboy, you can be sure he will show up again in a way not very good
for us."

"So I think," assented Mortimer.

"Then we must capture him, that's all."

"I wish we could. You see he might go to old Goldwin again, and tell him
he saw me here."

"Yes, or go to the police headquarters and raise a row," suggested
Gunwagner, gloomily.

"I didn't think of that. Well, as you say, the only thing for us to do
is to capture him and get him where he won't make trouble for us."

"The whole game will be lost, and we will be pulled by the police unless
we do so."

"You might's well count your game lost, then," said Bob to himself,
for he had now renewed hope of carrying through his scheme. But he was
nearly paralyzed with pain, from the cramped and uncomfortable position
in which he had remained so long. He felt, however, that he was doing a
great detective act, so he bore up under his sufferings with heroic
fortitude.

"Suppose the police should drop on us, and find Randolph in the cellar?"
suggested young Mortimer.

The thought evidently alarmed old Gunwagner. His face and whole manner
showed that it did