Then they dashed into the tavern.
At a counter stood a man of plain, stern features. He was evidently the proprietor and stared at the invaders.
Old King Brady leaned over the counter and said:
“Where is the man who just came up in that cutter out there?”
The proprietor looked blank.
“He did not stop here,” he said.
The detectives were staggered.
“Are you sure of that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know which way he went?”