"There you are, Mr. Mansfield," said the boy, respectfully. "I tought I could do it, an' I have. I'd like to see the cop as could catch onto yer now!" "Why, you're Barney, the bootblack, ain't you?" demanded Frank, glancing about him in curious surprise. Within the vault--for it was nothing more, nor larger than a small-sized bedroom--was a table with dishes upon it, a lamp burning in their midst, a chair or two standing about, and piles of old carpets and faded blankets rolled out upon the stone floor. Nothing else was to be seen about this strange dwelling-place save a short ladder leading up toward the vaulted brick arch above their heads, down which at this moment two ragged boys came scrambling with all possible speed. At the same instant Frank heard just such a sound as that which a heavy stone dropped upon frozen ground might make. The two boys sprang from the ladder to the floor of the vault, laughing aloud. "We fixed him, Barney!" cried one, giving utterance at the same time to the strange, bat-like cry which had so puzzled the worthy Schneider. "He's running up and down the wall, swearing every Dutch swear he knows. An' dis is your friend, is it? I suppose de fellers will kill us for what we've done, but it's too late to help it now." "Bully for you, Sandy! Garibaldi, you're a trump! Dere's nothing mean about this gent wot I've been a-shinin' of fer more nor a year, you bet. They've jest been a-playin' it onto him, an' I knew it. In course I couldn't stand by quiet like and see him took'n in." "Barney, what does all this mean?" cried Frank, regarding the boys and their strange surroundings with looks of unfeigned surprise. "It means that those two fellows, Ed Wilson and Jim Morrow, have gone back on you, Mr. Mansfield, and put up the job with Cutts, the detective to get you into a hole. You are wid the bats now and dey'll see yer all right, and don't make no mistake." "Put up a job on me! What do you mean?" "Look at dem bracelets wot you have on yer hands and then ax me. Cutts paid Jim and Ed to rope you in, an' I s'pose somebody's a-payin' of him. We fellers seen the bank robbers go out, an' one of de bats is a-follerin' of 'em now to spot where dey live. If you don't believe me, look a-here--here's a hull lot of things wot dey dropped!" The boy stooped, and from beneath the pile of old carpet and blankets in one corner of the vault drew out a small tin box filled with a number of documents, which he emptied upon the table among a mass of broken dishes, bread and scraps of meat, with which the table was already covered. "There dey am," said Barney, triumphantly. "You've been kind to me, Mister Mansfield, and I'm not the feller to go back on you. The boss of de gang dropped 'em, an' me an' Sandy picked 'em up. An' we didn't say nuthin' to them two sick bats, Jim Morrow an' Ed Wilson, about our find, an' now I'm mighty glad of it, too." The box was marked "Webster National Bank" in black letters painted upon its side.