Nick leaned out and gazed upward.
“I have it,” he replied. “A rope evidently was used[Pg 17] for removing the plunder through this window, which is much larger than that in the bathroom. It was not lowered to the rear area, however, for there is no exit to the street. Nor was it drawn up to the quarters of Gilbert, the photographer, or we would have found evidence of it last night. It must have been drawn up to the roof, therefore, and then transferred by some means to another building, or——”
“What’s up?” Chick cried, interrupting.
Nick had drawn back into the room with an abruptness that startled his assistant, even more than the altered expression on his strong, clean-cut face.
“I think, Chick, we’ve been fooled.”
“Fooled? What the deuce do you mean?”
“I mean——”
Nick did not remain to say what he meant. Instead, with a sharper light leaping up in his eyes, he strode hurriedly to the front parlor, in which Mr. Strickland and Wilhelmina then were seated.
“You told me last evening, Mr. Strickland, that Gerald Vaughn and his sister are old friends of yours. How long have you known them?” he asked, pausing in the middle of the room.
“Why, only since they have lived next door, Mr. Carter,” was the reply, with a look of surprise.