“And hearing that ‘The Blade’ is trying to catch the burglars I thought I’d just let you know,” the voice had continued.  “But I guess you’ll have to be quick if you want a sight of the burglars.  They’ll probably get away in quick order.”

Then had come the ring-off, just as Dick had tried to get the name of his informant.

Now Dick was sprinting toward the scene by the shortest route that he could think of.

Kahn’s store was on Main Street, but the rear entrance, used for the receipt of goods opened in off an alleyway that ran parallel with Main Street.

“There can’t be much time to spare,” muttered Dick, looking hard for a policeman.

At this late hour of the night the streets that Dick traveled in his haste were bare of pedestrians.

“I wish I had had time to get Dave,” though Prescott.  “But that would have lost at least five minutes more.  And Dave wasn’t going to be ready to go out until he came around for me nearer midnight.”

Dick was at the head of the alley, now, an moving cautiously, eyes wide open and ears on the alert.

How dark it was down in here!  Dick wondered, a moment, at the keenness of vision that had enabled some neighbor to see what was going on over in this dark place.

In his pocket, at the time of receiving the message, Prescott had placed a pocket electric “search-light.”

This he thought of, now, but he did not deem it wise to go flashing the light about unless he had to.

“The first point in my information is right, anyway,” muttered Dick.  “The rear door of Kahn’s is open.”

Moving in the shadow of the building, he had paused not far away from the door in question.

“There were two of the fellows, the message said,” muttered Dick.  “In that case, I should think one would have been left outside as a lookout.  However, the lookout may be just a little way inside of the door.  It won’t do to use my light now.  I’ll see if I can slip in and get close to the lookout before the thieves know there’s anyone around.”

A step at a time Prescott softly reached the open door.  He paused, listening intently.

“I don’t hear a sound in there.  I guess I’d better take a few very soft steps inside, and see if I can discover where the rogues are.  That is, unless they have already bagged their booty, and have gotten away again.”

Just inside of the open door, Dick halted again.  He listened, but there was no sound.

“These scoundrels are surely the original mice for soft moving,” muttered the boy grimly.  “What part of the establishment can they be in?  Hadn’t I better slip out and get the police?  I can’t learn anything in here unless I use my light.”

Yet Prescott didn’t want to turn on that flare.  The light was much more likely to show him up to the burglars than to enable him to find men who were not making a sound.