“How long is that?”
“About four months, as near as I can remember.”
“They do not own the corner house, then?”
“Oh, no. It is owned by Colonel Morgan Barker, who has been living abroad with his wife and two daughters for nearly a year. Their children are studying music in Berlin. The Vaughns met them, and, as they were about to visit New York for a few months, they arranged with Colonel Barker to occupy his furnished house during their stay here.”
“Who is Colonel Barker’s agent in New York?”
“Mr. John Archer, I believe, who has an office in Broadway. Mr. Vaughn brought a letter to him from Colonel Barker, directing him to let him occupy the house, and——”
“And turn, unless I am much mistaken, as crafty a trick as one often hears of,” Nick interrupted, with more austerity than he ordinarily displayed. “Come with me, Chick, and—ah, here is Patsy. What do you say? Has the photographer arrived?”
“Mr. Gilbert has just gone up, chief,” said Patsy, who had entered while Nick was speaking.
“Come, then, both of you,” said Nick, without further explanations.
He hurried from the room, followed by both Chick and Patsy, and led the way to the top floor. The photographer had just unlocked the door of his studio.