“Oh, I’m so glad you came, Larry!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I was so lonesome! I thought you would never get here.” “Better get right home with him, Larry,” said Mr. Newton. “Your mother will be worried, I know.” “What about the deed?” asked the young reporter. “That’s so,” remarked Mr. Newton. “I suppose we’ll have a job hunting for it. They’ve probably got it hidden away somewhere.” At these words Noddy’s face took on a queer look, and he almost smiled. “Well, we’ll find it later,” said Mr. Newton. “The chief thing now is to relieve your mother’s anxiety. Take Jimmy home.” “I want my kite,” said the lad. “Can’t go without my kite.” “I’ll bring it to you later,” said Larry, trying to quiet the little boy. “No, I want it now,” insisted Jimmy. “There ’tis, up on the shelf,” and he pointed to where one of the Chinese bird kites was on the mantel. To please him Larry reached for it. The toy seemed to be caught, and, in pulling it down, Larry brought a folded newspaper with it. The paper fell to the floor. Noddy was eying it narrowly. “Throw the paper away, and bring the kite along,” said Larry to Jimmy, who had picked up both articles. The little fellow obeyed. Something in the way in which the newspaper fell to the ground attracted Mr. Newton’s attention. He picked it up. As he unfolded it he uttered an exclamation. “Here’s the missing deed!” he cried. “Well, well, this is a lucky find! We might have hunted for a week, and never thought of looking in the folds of an old newspaper. Good for you and your kite, Jimmy! Here, Larry, take this along home with your brother. Unless I miss my guess, it’s going to be worth considerable to you in the future.” As Larry started away with his brother, the deed safely buttoned in an inner pocket, some of the detectives began crowding into the room with their prisoners. “Did you land ’em all right?” asked Mr. Newton. “Every one, I guess,” replied Sergeant Barnett, who was in charge of the squad. “They came out of the different exits like rats from their holes, and my men nabbed them. We even got that kid, Peter. My, but he was a scared one! It was all Scanlon could do to hold him, he fought so.” “Well, I guess you can take ’em away now,” said Mr. Newton. “I’ve got to get busy and ’phone the story in. Don’t say anything to any reporters from the other papers, until I have a chance to get my yarn in, Barnett.” “All right,” promised the sergeant. The patrol-wagon was sent for, and soon the prisoners were on their way to the station-house. In the meanwhile Mr. Newton telephoned in the story of the raid on the Rising Sun gang; every member who had been in the headquarters having been captured. The story was a beat for the _Leader_—one of the biggest of the year.