“I wonder why I never thought of that before!” he exclaimed, softly. “That’s what the Aldermanic Committee has been meeting in secret so often for. That’s the reason they would never admit that any business was done. My! but this is going to be a big thing! I can see a fine story in it, and maybe a beat. I can see something good for Larry, too, and if it doesn’t bring his brother back, and land some people in jail, I’m going to miss my guess,” and Mr. Newton felt so elated over the discovery he had accidentally made that he felt like hopping and skipping along the street. Thinking that would hardly be in keeping with the dignity of a reporter, however, he fell to whistling to relieve his spirits, and warbled forth tuneful strains from a comic opera, as being most appropriate. “Now to see Larry, and tell him the good news,” thought Mr. Newton. “We’ll have to make careful plans to close in on the gang. The only thing lacking is to know where they are, but with what I know I’ll have no trouble finding them. Whoop! I feel like a boy again!” He went to the Dexter home, where, though he did not expect it, he found Larry. It was late in the afternoon, and Mr. Newton was tired with his quest. “Any news?” he asked Larry. “A little. How about you?” “Everything we could wish for. Larry, my boy, I think we’ve got ’em. We’ll nab ’em inside of two days.” “And will you get Jimmy back?” asked Mrs. Dexter. “The first thing!” exclaimed Mr. Newton. Then he and Larry told each other their experiences, and prepared their plans for closing in on the gang. They could not imagine why there was no answer to the personal they had inserted, but, as it afterward developed, none of the gang had seen it, not counting on it being put in so soon after the kidnapping. CHAPTER XXXV NEARING THE END Jimmy, who had fretted all day, cried so much the second night of his captivity that Peter and Noddy were much alarmed. They tried their best to comfort the lad, but he continued to weep, and demanded to be taken to his mother and Larry. “Can’t you amuse him in some way?” the blue-handed man asked of Peter. “I’ve done my best,” replied the former copy boy. “He’s homesick, that’s what’s the matter.” “And small blame to him,” put in Noddy. “It’s a bad business all around, and I’m worried over how we’ll come out of it. If the kid keeps on crying there’ll be talk in the neighborhood, and that may lead to an investigation. Besides he’ll make himself sick, and we’ll have to send for a doctor. That would give the game away.” “We can get a Chink doctor,” spoke Peter. “Yes, and have him give the kid some ground-up snails, or pieces of birds’ nests,” exclaimed Noddy. “No, sir, no Chinese quack is going to monkey with the lad. If we have to have a doctor we’ll get a good one, even though it spoils the game. I’m not going to be responsible for the lad’s taking a bad turn, and maybe dying.”