CHAPTER XXXIII ON THE RIGHT TRACK “What’s the matter?” asked Larry, thinking he might have stumbled in on a crazy man. “I haven’t done anything to you.” He did not move, more, perhaps, because it was so sudden, than from any bravery, and when the Chinese stood in front of him, shaking his fist, Larry maintained his ground. “Your name Pleter Manton?” asked the Chinese, in a high-pitched voice. “No, my name’s Larry Dexter,” replied our hero. “I want to find Peter Manton.” “Yo’ sure yo’ no Pleter Manton?” “Of course I’m sure.” “Then me solly,” the Celestial went on. “Me t’ink yo’ him. Yo’ ’scuse me?” “Of course,” replied Larry, seeing that a mistake had been made. The Chinese quieted down from the rage into which the mention of the name Peter Manton had seemed to throw him. He looked Larry over closely, and then a smile came stealing upon his face. “No; yo’ no Pleter,” he remarked. “First me take yo’ fo’ him.” “What makes you mad at him?” asked Larry, anxiously. “He blad bloy,” the Chinese went on. “He mlake tlouble for Ah Moy. He have looms up stails, an’ him an’ odder bloys bleak windows, an’ make all bad. Me lose money.” “Did Peter use to have a clubroom here?” asked Larry, feeling that at last he was getting on the right track. The Chinese nodded vigorously in the affirmative. “Where has he gone now?” asked Larry. At this question the Chinese, who had seemed to be very frank, regarded Larry suspiciously. He half shut his eyes, which at the best were not very widely open, and asked: “Wha’ flo’ yo’ want know?” “I want to see him.” “S’plose he no want see yo’?” suggested Ah Moy. That was a puzzler for Larry. He was not used to answering such sharp questions as the Chinese put, and he could not understand the Celestial’s sudden interest in the welfare of Peter, when, before, the Oriental had appeared to want to punish the lad. “Well, I want to see him, even if he doesn’t want to see me,” replied Larry, at length. “He glot some yo’ money?” Arguing that the deed might be considered money, as it represented a large sum, and feeling sure that if Peter did not have it, he knew where it was, Larry replied: “Peter has some of my money.” “If me tell yo’ where Pleter is, yo’ give me some money?” asked Ah Moy. “What for?” Larry was trying to gain time to think. “He make me lose tlee dollar bleakin’ my windlow,” the Chinese went on. “He an’ odder bloys what are in club. He no pay me. Maybe yo’ pay me.” “If you tell me where to find Peter I’ll give you the three dollars,” Larry answered, thinking it would be a sum spent in a good cause. “All light,” announced Ah Moy, cheerfully. “Give me money.” “Here it is,” replied Larry, producing the bills, and holding them where the Chinese could see them. “Now you tell me.” Ah Moy leaned forward, first taking care to look out toward the street, and see that no one was headed for his store. Then he whispered: