"Hello!" said Dick, returning to the phone. "The receiver is hanging and I can't replace it because my arms are bound. The circuit will have to remain open till the police get here. That's all," said Dick, judging that the call came from the girl at the central office. She evidently understood and reported the situation, for the bell did not ring any more. Dick left the library and made his way down to the dining room in the front of the basement to watch for the coming of the policeman. In a short time he saw an officer come in sight and stop in front of the house next door. A second policeman joined him a moment later and pointed to the right house. They started down into the areaway. Dick at once pounded on the window with his forehead, the best he could do. The policeman heard the sounds and came up to the window, which was protected by diamond-shaped iron-work. Through this they peered and could just make out the boy's face pressed against the pane. One of them took an electric flashlight cylinder from his pocket and turned the light on Dick's form. They saw at once how his arms were bound alongside his body. Then the officer turned the light on the iron area gate. As he looked it over, he saw the key on the floor just inside. He reached for it and tried it on the gate, but saw right away that it wouldn't fit. They conversed a minute, then leaving the area, they went up to the front door and found no trouble in opening the outer portal. Flashing the light on the inside door, they saw the key standing in the lock. In another moment they were in the house and Dick heard their heavy tread on the stairs, coming down. Within a minute he stood in the full glare of the flashlight, while the policemen were sizing him up. CHAPTER XI.--Guilt Sees Its Finish. "My, but I'm glad you've come!" said Dick, in a tone of relief. "Cut me free, please." "How came you to be in this shape?" asked the officer with the flashlight, while the other produced his knife and began severing the clothes line. Dick told his story in as few words as possible, beginning with the appearance of the richly dressed blonde woman at his store that morning. The policeman listened with attention. "That fellow is no common rascal," said one of them, "and his name isn't Patterson, for a dollar bill. They have left the house of course?" "I judge so, for I haven't heard a sound since I recovered my senses nearly an hour ago. Besides, the house appears to be locked up from the outside, or was until you came and got in. How did you manage to do it?" The policeman told him about finding the key inside of the area gate, where it had evidently been placed by the man when he and the woman left. "Well, come along to the police station with us, and we'll lock up the house again after we search it thoroughly. How much was the package worth you brought here?" "Seven hundred dollars." "They've got away with that, at any rate."