“How should I know, Chief?”
“Guess!”
“Harry Nichols.”
“Who else?”
“Search me, Chief.”
“Who’s that over across the street in the shelter of the stoop? See! He sees us! You ought to know who that is!”
“He looks familiar,” admitted Delaney.
“It’s O’Toole!”
“That’s right, Chief. It is! He tailed the lad in the fur benny from the drug-store and came here. The lad in the drug-store was Harry Nichols. The thing works out all right.”
“Get over to the other side of the street and tell O’Toole that he can go home and get some sleep. Tell him to be at the office not later than eight o’clock—this morning. Get what information you can from him. This brownstone house with the sign out is our address. I’ll wait on the stoop.”