“Won’t I, though?” answered Dick, breathlessly, into the ’phone.  “I have two chums here now.  We’ll be there like greased lightning—–­and, oh, Miss Bentley, thank you!”

Neither Dave nor Greg needed to ask any questions, for both had stood close to the receiver, drinking in every word.  Now they shot out through the front of the store with a speed and turbulence that made studious Mr. Prescott gasp with amazement.

“Careful, now, fellows!” warned Dick a few moments later.  “We want to hear, as well as catch!  Softly does it.”

Well practiced in running, not one of the three freshmen was out of breath by the time that they reached the head of Stetson’s Alley.

Just before turning the corner at the head of the alley, Dick and his freshmen chums halted to listen and reconnoiter.

Peeping cautiously around the corner, Dick, Greg and Dave made out dimly one figure well down the alley.  There was not light enough there to recognize the fellow.  And the three boys could make out some one past this first fellow, but the second individual stood well in the dark shadow of the delivery doorway of a store.

“Let’s see if we can’t creep up a little nearer,” whispered Dick Prescott, softly.

“They may see us coming,” warned Dave.

“If they do, we’ll just make a jump in and nab them anyway,” Dick rejoined.  “Remember the main game—–­capture!”

Cautiously, a foot at a time, and in Indian file, the three freshmen stole down the dark alleyway.  Then Dick halted, passing back a nudge that Dave Darrin passed on to Greg Holmes.

“Now, ye needn’t think ye’re goin’ to renig,” warned the fellow who was nearer to the boys.  “I done the whole job against Prescott, and I done it as neat as the next one.  Why, you never even thought of the trick of slipping that watch and pin into Prescott’s trunk, did ye?  That was my brains.  I supplied the brains, an’ you’ve got to raise the cash to pay for ’em!  How did I do that trick of slippin’ the watch an’ pin into Prescott’s trunk!  Oh, yes!  Of course, ye wanter know.  Well, I’ll tell ye when ye hand me the rest o’ the money for doin’ the whole trick—–­then I’ll tell ye.”

Something in a very low whisper came, in response, from the second party who was invisible to the prowling freshmen.

Dick Prescott felt that there was no need of prolonging this scene.  He had heard enough.

“Now, rush ’em!  Grab ’em—–­and hold ’em!” shouted Dick, suddenly.

As the three freshmen shot forward into the darkness something that sounded like an almost hysterical cheer in girls’ voices came from the open, dark window overhead.

But neither Dick nor his chums paused to give thought to that at this important moment.

The unknown who had been doing most of the talking wheeled with an oath, making a frantic dash to get out of the alley and onto the street.