"Gee! I'm a fool not to have thought of it," he muttered. "Oh, Pete!" Annie implored. "Do you know where he is?" Peter controlled his features and gravely shook his head. "I can't say as I do, exactly, but this here paper furnishes a clue. I think p'raps I can find the baby without calling in the p'lice." He faced the others. "Go back to the house and watch out that none o' them gypsy women comes prowlin' around." He waited until they were out of hearing, then he sat down on the bench by Annie. "I'll find the kid on just one condition--ye're to let that Dago alone. D'ye understand?" "Get the baby, hurry--please! I'll talk to you afterward." "I think I'll be talkin' just a second now. Ye know well enough I never had nothin' to do with that Circassian Beauty girl." "Yes, yes, Pete! I believe you. I know you didn't. Please go." "Stop thinkin' o' the kid a minute an' listen to me." He reached over and grasped her firmly by the wrist. "If I fetches him back without no hurt before his mother gets home, will everything be just the same between us as before I took ye to that infernal Heart of Asia?" "Yes, Pete, honest--I promise." Her lips trembled momentarily into a smile. "I knew you didn't have nothing to do with her. I just wanted to make you mad." His grasp tightened. "Ye succeeded all right." "Ow, Pete, let me go! You hurt." He dropped her wrist and rose to his feet. "Mind, now, this is on the straight. I finds the kid an' we're friends again." She nodded and smiled into his eyes. Peter smiled back, and swung off, whistling, down the lane. A rustling behind the hedge, and a scampering of feet, warned him that the enemy had posted scouts. He stilled his whistle and approached the old barn warily. It presented a blank face when he arrived; the door was shut and locked. He pounded three times. A startled movement occurred inside, but no challenge. He pounded again, more insistently, pushing with his shoulder until there was the sound of straining timber. "Who goes there? Give the countersign," issued from the keyhole in Master Augustus's tones. "Blood!" said Peter, with grim emphasis. A pause followed, during which he kept his ear to the crack. A whispered consultation was going on inside, then presently, a small window opened and Master Augustus's head appeared. "Oh, Pete! Is dat you?" There was relief in his tone. "Wait a minute an' I'll let you in. I was 'fraid it was gypsies." "Well, it ain't gypsies; it's the local p'lice on the track o' stolen goods. You open up that door an' be quick about it!" A long wait ensued while Augustus ineffectually fumbled with the lock, talking meanwhile to Peter in as loud a voice as possible to drown the sound of movement behind him. The door was finally flung wide, and Peter was received with a disarming smile. He stepped inside and peered about. "Where have ye hid the other boys?" he demanded.