“I’ll be on my guard, Dick.”

“Sam and I can go down part of the way with you, and when you go in, we can hang around outside, one at the upper and one at the lower street corner.  Perhaps by doing that, we’ll catch another sight of Crabtree, although I think, for the present, he’ll keep away from Wall street and meet those brokers somewhere else, or telephone to them.”

It was not long after this when the three Rover boys set out for the lower part of the great metropolis.  They took the subway, that being the quickest way to get there.  Dick gave Tom directions how to find the brokers’ offices, and then the brothers separated as agreed.

Tom had fixed himself up for the occasion, wearing a slouch hat and a flowing tie, in the manner of a young man from the West or South.  He carried a pocket full of timetables and another pocket full of legal-looking documents.  He also carried half a dozen visiting cards, with the name and address: 

Roy A. Putnam
Denver, Colo.

With eyes on the alert for the possible appearance of somebody who might know him, Tom walked into the office building where Pelter, Japson & Company did business and entered the elevator.  He was the only passenger, and arriving at the fourth floor, he found himself alone in the corridor leading to the brokers’ offices.

“Guess I’ll listen a bit and see if I can hear anything,” he told himself, and tiptoed his way to one of the doors.

He listened intently, but the only sound that broke the stillness was the click of a typewriter and the occasional shifting of some papers.  Then he tiptoed his way to the next door, that marked Private.

Straining his ears, Tom caught the scratching of a pen and then a deep sigh, as if somebody had just completed an important bit of work.  Then he heard the footsteps of a man, walking from the inner to the outer office.

“If he comes out, I’ll have to show myself,” thought the youth.  But the man did not appear, instead Tom presently heard him return to the inner office.  Then the telephone rang and the man answered it.

“Yes,” Tom heard him say.  “All right.  Wait a second,” And then the man kicked shut a door between the offices, to assure himself of privacy.

There followed a long wait, during which time the man in the office was probably receiving some message.

“To-morrow morning?” Tom heard him ask “What time?  Ten o’clock.  That is rather early, but I can go there directly from my home.”  There came another pause.  “Leave that to me,” cried the man.  “I’ll make him do it!” He paused again.  “I am not afraid of those boys,” he added.  “I’ll be there, sure.”  Another pause.  “Yes, the boat is the best place.  Nobody can disturb us there.  Good-bye.”  And then the man hung up the telephone receiver.

Tom had taken in every word that the man said.  If it was Pelter he must be talking to Japson, or Crabtree, or somebody else in the affair.  And Tom did not doubt but what by “those boys” the man had meant himself and his brothers.