The High School Captain of the Team Part 38

"Who---where---" asked Chief Simmons, excitedly.

"Right here!" came the voice. "Hold your lights on me!"

Two flash-lights at once centered their rays on the speaker, and Dave Darrin bounded forward into the light.

"So you two have been working this thing as side partners, have you?" asked Chief Simmons harshly. "Great Scott, how you've fooled us, then! Like everyone else, we believed you two boys to be straight. Tell me," commanded Simmons dryly, "is Editor Pollock in this store-robbing gang, too?"

"Ask Mr. Pollock yourself," Dave flung back.

"I will, when I get time," retorted Simmons. "Grab Darrin and put the irons on his wrists, too!"

CHAPTER XXIV

Dave Gives Points to the Chief of Police

"You clumsy bungler!" spoke Dave Darrin hotly. "Chief, I demand the right to speak to you for a moment."

"After you're ironed and taken to the station house," snapped Mr. Simmons.

"Chief, you're not afraid to step aside with me and listen to about ten words?" demanded Darrin scornfully. "And if you don't---if you go on in your bull-headed way---you'll be the scorn of the town by morning. Why don't you hear what I've got to say, instead of letting precious seconds slip by. Come! Over this way!"

There was something so commanding in Darrin's voice and manner that Simmons concluded to listen for a moment.

Keeping his flash-light turned on Darrin, the chief of police followed Dave. Darrin whispered something in the big man's ear.

In another moment the two were whispering together animatedly.

"Why didn't you come to the point before, Darrin?" demanded the chief gruffly.

"Great Scott, didn't I, as soon as I could postpone your mania for having me loaded down with police chains?"

"Yet how do I know you're telling me anything like the truth?"

"If I'm lying, you can find it out very quickly, can't you?" demanded Darrin. "But come along, or you'll be too late. Oh, why do all the biggest slow pokes in creation get appointed to the police force?"

"Come along with me, Delmar," ordered Chief Simmons, turning to one of his policemen. "The rest of you stay here---though you can pa.s.s on into the open air. Then wait there for us."

"Don't you waste any time on worry, d.i.c.k," Dave called back.

Prescott laughed easily. Whatever Dave had discovered, or thought he had, Darrin's chum was quite content now to await the result of all that enthusiasm.

"We must not make much noise," cautioned Darrin, as he led the way swiftly, though on tiptoe. "We don't want to scare the other people cold until we have them cooped so that they can't get away.

But you'd better be ready, in case they're desperate enough to try shooting!"

Up the street, to the head of another alley way, Darrin led the swift chase.

"Now, softer than ever," he whispered, over his shoulder, without halting.

A moment later Dave halted before two stone steps that led down to a bas.e.m.e.nt junk shop.

Just as he did so a low voice inside could be heard, saying in barely audible tones:

"I'm so anxious to know whether Prescott fell into the trap that I can hardly wait another minute."

"You'd better wait until morning, or you'll tumble into something with your eyes shut, and that will mean both of us nabbed," growled another voice.

"Do you think they found Prescott---that they believed in the appearances against him?"

"I can't say," came the other low voice. "And I can wait. I'm not crazy on the subject, as you seem to be."

"Explain this all over again, to us, won't you?" shouted the chief, pushing open the door of the junk shop and striding in, backed by the light and the revolver of Officer Delmar.

"What?" screamed Phin Drayne, then sank to his knees in the extremity of his terror.

"Don't either of you try to put up any fight," warned the chief.

"Delmar, here are my handcuffs to put with your own. Hand me your light, and then iron both of these fellows securely."

The owner of the junk shop, a man under thirty, dirty and low browed, stood cowering back against a bench. The fellow looked as though he would have fought had there been any chance to draw a weapon. But he was gazing straight into the muzzle of the police chief's weapon.

An instant later both prisoners had been handcuffed, and a pistol had been taken from the clothing of each. From the junkman, too, had been taken a ring of keys.

"One of these fit your door?" demanded Simmons.

"Yes," growled the scowling one. "The long key."

"Bring the prisoners along, Delmar," ordered the chief. "I'll lock up here. We'll come back later for a search."

Out on the sidewalk Phin Drayne plucked up courage enough to find his voice.

"For goodness' sake, let me go, Chief," he begged, falteringly.

"I haven't done anything, although things look against me."

"I guess we'll be able to put things enough against you," retorted the police official mockingly.

"Think of my mother!" pleaded the wild boy. "Think of our family---one of the most respectable in town. Think of-----"

"Oh, you're enough to make one tired," broke in Dave Darrin, in deep disgust. "You thought of d.i.c.k Prescott when you put up the job to have him arrested as a burglar, didn't you?"

"Why, what do you mean? I didn't do anything to d.i.c.k Prescott,"

shouted Drayne angrily, or affecting to be angry.

"Tell that to the marines," quoth Darrin contemptuously. "It was through following on your trail, Drayne, that I discovered the whole trick, and also knew just where to take the police to find you."

An hour later Chief Simmons was well satisfied that he had laid the burglar scare in Gridley.

Not that the new chief had had so very much to do with the result, either.