The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

force across the room. It struck Pedro right in the face, blinding him for a moment. Then he brushed his hand across his eyes, vaulted the counter, and lunged toward the table. In a flash, Big Tony whipped out his gun. He aimed it at Pedro’s chest, ordering him back to his place behind the counter. Cursing, Pedro obeyed.
    “Now, sister, where’s the idol?” Tony asked tersely as he returned his gun to its holster.
    For some reason she would never be able to understand, Trixie had concealed the small idol deep in the pocket of her skirt. Terrified, she reached to get it. In a second, Big Tony whipped out his gun again and turned it on her. “One kid like you less in the world ain’t gonna bother me one bit,” he sneered. “Hand it over, kid.”
    Almost fainting, Trixie tried to answer. She tried to reach into her pocket. Her hands were paralyzed. Her voice failed. Why did I ever come here? she thought desperately. I’ll be killed , and no one will ever know what happened to me.
    “Slow down, Tony!” Blinky yelled. “Can’t ya see the kid’s too scared to talk? The idol ain’t in her purse. We gotta find out where it is. Don’t let that gun go off, Tony. Remember what happened when ya knocked off that guy at the bank? We lost twenty grand, that’s all. If we was caught, we’d ’a’ got the chair. Don’t scare the kid before we get the idol. He ain’t gonna harm you none, kid.”
    “Oh, ain’t I?” Big Tony pushed the gun right up against Trixie’s side. Everything began to swim around her. I can’t faint, she thought and shook her head vigorously. “If—you’ll—just—wait—a—second—” she said, her voice hardly audible.
    “Speak up!” Big Tony prodded her in the side with his gun. “You’re takin’ forever! I ain’t a patient man. This gun might go off. Just keep your hands on the table!”
    “Then—how—can—I?”
    “Come across, kid, or else...
    He’s going to kill me! “Jim! Jim! Jim!” Trixie’s voice rose to a scream.
    Across the room, Pedro signaled frantically toward the street, his hand held high, pointing. “Cut it, Blinky, Tony—cops! Didn’t you see me trying to warn you?” He disappeared below the counter.
    A burly policeman burst through the door, followed by Jim, Dan, Brian, Mart, Bob, and Ned! Before they could reach the corner, Blinky and Big Tony had lifted a trapdoor back of the table and had disappeared down the opening.
    Trixie huddled at the table alone. She was hardly aware of Jim and Mart lifting her to her feet.
    “Get her out of here into the air!” Brian commanded, and the others stepped back out of the way. Outside, Brian rubbed his sister’s hands -vigorously while Jim gently stroked her head, his forehead wrinkled in deep concern. Slowly, very slowly, the color came back into her face and lips. Big tears filled her eyes.
    “Did you get—those men? Blinky, Pedro—Big Tony? Big Tony was going to shoot me!” A shudder ran through Trixie’s body. “Did you get them?” she repeated as the policeman pushed his way toward her.
    “Blinky, you said? Big Tony? Pedro?” The policeman turned to Dan. “It’s a miracle she’s alive. Do you know who they are?”
    Dan shook his head. “Pretty bad actors, I guess. I do know this place is a hideout for gangsters.”
    “You said it, boy.” The policeman nodded and went on. “Those men are three of the cleverest, most ruthless jewel thieves in the world. They’ve given us the slip now—through that trapdoor, up a ladder, over rooftops. There are a dozen escape routes in a radius of half a block, some of them underground. The whole place is a rat run.”
    “I know,” Dan said. “Why you ever came here, Trixie....”
    Trixie tried to answer. Her voice choked. She was the sorriest girl in the whole world. It was a dreadful thing she had done, she thought, dreadful not only because of her own risk, but also because she had imperiled the lives of those she loved. Big Tony could have blazed his gun at them before he disappeared. “How did you find me?” she asked weakly.
    “It was Dan,” Mart answered.
    “Not me entirely,” Dan said. “If it hadn’t been for the doorman—”
    “I think we should get Trixie home,” Brian interrupted. “This crowd is getting bigger all the time. She needs to rest. Her nerves are shot. Let’s get her out of this place.”
    “Right you are, Brian,” Jim said.
    A taxi had been edging its way along the curb. It stopped at Jim’s signal. The