“I’ll explain later,” Kate interrupted. “There is no time at present. I must hike to Sheldon’s suite, in case Carter is already there. Follow me with Moran as soon as possibly. The rear door, mind you. I must go round to the front.”
“I understand,” Dacey replied. “But how can we get them out of the house?”
“There’s a lift for trunks and merchandise just beyond the back stairs,” Kate hurriedly explained. “We can use it without being detected. We’ll lower them both down and get away with them in your car. It can be done, all right. Take my word for that.”
“Your word goes with me, Kate,” Dacey declared significantly. “Be off, then, to Sheldon’s suite. I’ll be on hand with Moran in less than ten minutes.”
As already has appeared, Jim Dacey proved to be as good as his word.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE THIRD STRING.
Chick Carter was not idle while Nick Carter and Patsy Garvan were engaged as described. Chick had, of course, a very good description of the man whose identity he had undertaken to discover, and it soon proved sufficient for his need. For the man had been a frequent visitor to the apartments of Kate Crandall, and he was quite well known by Tom Carson, the clerk, with whom Chick had a confidential interview soon after entering the house.
“Know him—sure!” Carson declared, after Chick had introduced himself and stated his mission. “That description fits just one man to a nicety. His name is Jim Dacey.”
“Capital!” said Chick earnestly. “Jim Dacey, eh? What do you know about him, Mr. Carson?”
“Well, nothing very bad, Mr. Carter, nor so good that he’ll be sought for a Sunday-school superintendent,” laughed the clerk. “He’s a man about town and a good deal of a rounder.”