Spotter now feared no pursuit. He knew that any one who might be watching for him would be at the front entrance of the dive. So he made great speed in leaving the vicinity.
He moved silently, with running gait, along the side of the alley; and continued his deceptive pace when he reached the street.
Spotter used the utmost precaution, and every wile, when he thought he was being followed. But when he was reasonably sure that no one was on his trail, he went forth rapidly, never looking behind. Hence, he did not notice a strange shadow on the sidewalk — a shadow that seemed to keep pace with him, moving without noise, as shadows always do.
Leaving the more disreputable neighborhood behind him, Spotter came to some old, large houses. Here he entered a space between two buildings, and rang at a side door. It was opened for him. He went upstairs, and entered a room at the side of the house.
Spotter always climbed stairs rapidly. Tonight, he should have remained outside the house. Had he been there, he would have seen what appeared to be a solid shadow moving up the side of the wall. It reached the lighted window before Spotter was in the room.
Perhaps that was why Spotter was startled when he entered. For on the floor he saw a shadow. He stared at it; but it did not move.
Sighing with relief, the little crook dropped in a chair, with his back partly toward the window.
* * *
A big, bluff-faced man came in. Spotter grinned and raised one scrawny hand in greeting. The little crook seemed to be doing his utmost to gain favor with the heavy, grim-visaged person whom he had come to see.
“What’s up?” demanded the bluff man, lighting a black cigar as he took his place in a chair opposite Spotter. “Give me the dope.”