“Instantly!”
“Good! Nothing could be better.”
The Bradys left Sly Jimmie’s place. The air was crisp and cold, for the frigidity of winter had not yet passed away.
They did not attempt to shadow any individual member of the gang.
But they started at once for the lodgings of young Banks.
He roomed, while at work in the city, in Irving Place. The room was a specimen of the sort usually found in lodging houses.
As is usually the case in New York, Allerton knew none of the other lodgers.
He simply knew that a tall, hawk-eyed man roomed next to him. But he had never ventured a surmise as to the man’s character or identity.
The chambermaid had caught Mr. Scott, the hawk-eyed man, one day trying to fit skeleton keys to Allerton’s door.
But Mr. Scott profusely explained that he had got the wrong room by mistake and went into his own room.