"I won't admit I'm wrong," declared Frank grimly. "I feel positive the man is Davis."
"So do I," replied Jack; "else I wouldn't be so keen about getting into that house. We'll go back and skirmish around a bit, anyhow."
They retraced their steps slowly, and passing the house where the man had entered, took careful note of it.
It was a two-story building. Steps led to a porch, not high above the street, but still high enough to make the single window in front beyond reach from the street below. A narrow passage was between it and the house on the left. It was built flush against the house on the right.
At the corner the lads again turned and retraced their steps. "I'm going to try the door," said Jack. "You slink back in that dark alleyway until you hear from me."
Frank signified that he understood, and passing the house, did as Jack had instructed, the latter mounting the steps quietly and swiftly.
The lad laid a hand on the knob and turned it. Then he pushed on the door, but it held fast.
"Locked," he said, plainly disappointed.
There was no window in the little vestibule and the single front window was beyond reach from the porch. Neither was there a transom that could be forced.
"No means of getting in here," Jack told himself.