As it yielded, Kennedy pushed his way through. Elaine, always utterly fearless, followed. Then the rest of us went through.
There seemed to be nothing, however, that would help us in the cellar next door, and Kennedy mounted the steps of a stairway in the rear.
The stairway led to a sort of storeroom, full of barrels and boxes, but otherwise characterless. When I arrived Kennedy was gingerly holding up the dusters which the crooks had worn.
"We're on the right trail," commented Elaine as he showed them to her, "but where do you suppose the owners are?"
Craig shrugged his shoulders and gave a quick look about. "Evidently they came in from and went away by the street," he observed, hurrying to the door, followed by Elaine.
On the sidewalk, he gazed up the avenue, then catching sight of the street cleaner, called to him.
"Yes, sir," replied the man, stolidly looking up from his work. "I see three gentlemen come out and get into an automobile."
"Which way did they go?" asked Kennedy.
For answer the man jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction uptown.
"Did you notice the number of the car?" asked Craig eagerly.