"We get out here," he said to Martin.
Martin jumped out after him, and they turned westward down one of the streets leading to the North River.
"Is it much farther?" asked Martin.
"Not much."
"It's rather an out-of-the-way place for business, isn't it?" remarked Martin, observing that the street was lined with dwelling-houses on either side.
"For most kinds of business it is," said his new acquaintance; "but it suits us. We like a quiet, out-of-the-way place."
"Are you in the wholesale business?" asked Martin, whose curiosity began to be considerably excited.
"Something of that sort," answered the stranger. "Ah, here we are!"
The house before which he stopped was a brick dwelling-house, of three stories. The blinds were closed, and it might have been readily supposed that no one lived there. Certainly nothing could have looked less like a place of business, so far as outward appearance went, and Martin, whose perceptions were not very acute, saw this, and was puzzled. Still his companion spoke so quietly and composedly, and seemed to understand himself so well, that he did not make any remark.
Instead of pulling the bell, Mr. Smith drew a latch-key from his pocket, and admitted himself.