“We want a boy, eh?” muttered Spofford. “Yes.” “What for?” “To climb in at a window and unfasten the door to the house we are going to rob.” “Well, we can find one.” “Where?” “Oh, there’s lots of them.” “Not experts, and not to be trusted, though,” replied Daley. “I wish we had Downey.” “Yes, Tim was a good one.” “Anyway, you try and find one.” “Are you going?” “Yes.” “Where?” “To get some satchels. I intend to leave the country if we make a big haul to-night.” “When will you return?” “About noon.” “All right.” Daley left the place, and Spofford, after seeing him fairly away, returned deliberately to the card room. The two boys looked at one another curiously. The parts of the conversation Dean had not heard, his companion explained to him. “We are getting along famously,” declared Marcus. “Now for a bold push and we will come out with flying colors.” “Shall you have the fellows arrested?” asked Dean. “Not ready for that,” replied Marcus. “At this stage in the game we might not get hold of those papers. I must have those. No, Dean, I think I have a better plan.” “Name it.” “You notice that precious pair of scamps want to get a boy to help them. I am going to apply for that job.” “Will it do?” “It must. You are afraid I will get mixed up in something worse than the reform school. Trust me to keep a level head. Only I would like to have you near at hand when the crisis comes, as I may need you in rounding up the rogues.” Marcus talked and acted like a skilled detective, instead of a mere boy. He was bold and venturesome, and Dean feared too much so, for it seemed as if their investigations were leading them into peril, uncertainty and contact with crime in all its hideousness. “Wickedness got you in all your trouble,” said Marcus, “and we must not hesitate to invade its dark domains. Now, then, you go to some other part of the room, or even outside.” “What for?” “So we won’t seem to be together.” “Is that necessary?” “To my plan, yes. Here is some of my money. Take it. You may need it. Keep watch of me, but don’t pretend to know me. If you see me get acquainted with Spofford, watch out for any note that I may write you, or follow us wherever we go.” “All right,” answered Dean, a little dubious of his own skill as a detective. “I may go away with them.” “On their robbing excursion?” “Yes.” “You’ll get in trouble?” “No, I won’t. I’ll block their game without their knowing it. I only want to learn about your enemies, who has the papers they stole proving my father’s innocence. Now, then, leave me.” Dean went to another portion of the room, and Marcus sat where he was, watching the door of the card room for Spofford’s expected appearance. Presently the latter came out. He flung himself into a chair at the next table to that where Marcus sat, calling to the bartender to bring him a drink of liquor.