Nick had taken his hat from a table on which he had placed it.
“Yes,” he replied. “I will return in a couple of hours, however, and Chick may arrive in the meantime. We will leave no stone unturned to ferret out the truth.”
He led the way out to his touring car, in which Danny, his chauffeur, had been waiting in front of the house.
“To Fordham, Danny,” he directed. “Let her go lively.”
“Why to Fordham, chief?” questioned Patsy, when both were seated in the tonneau and the car was speeding down the long driveway to the rural road.
“To inspect Pauline Perrot’s apartments and interview her landlady,” said Nick, with rather ominous intonation.
“Do you suspect her of being a crook?”
“I think she is back of this whole business, Patsy, of whatever it consists.”
“Gee, that looks like a cinch!” declared Patsy. “Either she is playing a deep game, chief, and working it out[Pg 9] with wonderful success, or Gordon has lost his head completely and bolted with the woman.”
“The last may possibly be true, since other men have been equally foolish,” said Nick. “I find it hard to believe of Arthur Gordon, however.”