Yet my heart did not fail me. My mind was too full of the object of my quest to allow me to become faint-hearted. I was there for a purpose, and that purpose must be accomplished.
My clothes were still damp, but the sunshine was fast drying them. Near by was a bootblack's chair, and dropping into this, I had him polish my shoes and brush me up generally.
While he was performing the operation I questioned him concerning the streets and gained considerable information.
"Did you ever hear of a man by the name of Chris Holtzmann?" I asked.
"I dunno," was the slow reply. "What does he do?"
"I don't know what business he is in. He came from Brooklyn."
The bootblack shook his head.
"This city is a big place. There might be a dozen men by his name here. The street what you spoke about has lots of saloons and theatres on it. Maybe he's in that business."
"Maybe he is," I returned. "I must find out somehow."
"You can look him up in the directory. You'll find one over in the drug store on the corner."