“I wouldn’t mind having a crack at the burglar scare, either,” laughed Dick.  “But the question is, how am I going to go about it to catch the fellow?  He has baffled all the police, and even Len Spencer.  What show have I for finding the rascal?”

“Just the same, Dick, I believe you would catch him, if you’d set your mind and your energies to it.  Will you do it?  Will you put in a week trying to run down this burglar and give ’The Blade’ the first chance at the story?  I’ll agree, in advance, to pay you for whatever time you’ll put in on it for a week, if even you are not successful in running him down.”

“I’ll think it over,” Dick replied, with a quiet smile.  “I’ll talk it over with Dave.”

“There’s another mighty bright young fellow!” cried the editor.  “Now, why can’t you get Darrin to go into it with you?  I’ll pay Darrin for his time, too.”

Dave, when the project was sprung on him, gave his hearty assent.

“It won’t do any harm to have a try at it, anyway, Dick,” urged Darrin.  “It’ll wake us up a bit, too.  Not that I’ve any real and abiding idea that we’re going to catch Mr. Burglar.”

“If we’re in earnest we’re going to catch him,” declared Prescott.  “That’s the old Gridley High School way, you know.  What well start on we’ve got to put through.”

Night after night, in that cold January week, Dick and Dave slipped out late at night, and prowled about through the business district of Gridley.  Very often the chums ran across the police, but both were known well to the police, and were not challenged.  Indeed, the police soon learned that Dick and Dave were employed by “The Blade” for the purpose of assisting in the efforts to capture the mysterious burglar or burglars.

In that week two more “breaks” happened, and each time the thief or thieves got away with valuable booty.

“You youngsters don’t seem to be having any luck,” remarked Editor Pollock.  “But keep on the case a little longer.  I know you’ll land something sooner or later.  Keep ahead, just as if you had to score a touchdown before the half was over.”

So for two nights Dick and Dave kept out, with equally bad luck.

One night at eleven o’clock Dick answered the home telephone.  He listened in amazement, then tried to find out who his informant was, but the latter rang off promptly.

“I believe that is straight,” muttered Dick.  “At all events, I’ll look into this game for all it’s worth.  What if we are about to catch the thief red-handed?”

Snatching up a heavy walking stick, Dick Prescott hurriedly quitted the house.

CHAPTER XXIII

The Plight of the Innocent

If the information that had come over the wire from an unknown was correct there was not a moment to be lost in telephoning.

It was a masculine voice that had sounded in the ’phone and the message was to the effect that the sender of the message had just observed two men forcing the rear entrance of Kahn’s drygoods store.