"Not if he comes back, Buddy. That man is like his boys -- bound
to turn up when you least expect it. That gold mine was --
What's that?"

Arnold Baxter stopped short and leaped to his feet. A wrangle in
the hallway just outside of the door had interrupted him.

"Vot vos you doin' here, hey?" came in a heavy German voice. "I
dink me you vos up to no goot, hey?"

"Let me go!" came from Dick. "I have done no harm."

"I dink you vos von sneak thief alretty! Stand still bis I find
owit."

"It's Dutch Jake!" cried Buddy Girk. "He has collared somebody
in the hall. I'll see who it is."

He threw open the door and allowed the light of a lamp to fall on
Dick and the burly man who had captured the youth.

"Great smoke! It's one of dem Rover boys!" he cried, dropping
into his old-time manner of speech. "Wot are you doin' here?"

"You know dot young feller?" demanded the man who had been
mentioned as Dutch Jake.

"Yes, I do, and he's up to no good here," replied Buddy Girk.