“By gracious! there’s the connecting link,” he said to himself. “This does settle it. Vera Vantoon, eh? That jade who figured with Stuart Floyd in the looting of the loan company. She was hand and glove with Floyd at that time, and it’s long odds that their intimacy has not ended. This is the person for whom Minerva Grand is looking. She’s the connecting link, all right. By Jove, I must contrive to overhear what passes between them.”
Chick was quick to take advantage of the girl’s delay in entering the place, which he rightly inferred was due to diffidence and inexperience.
Stepping back of the palms near the entrance to the concert hall, Chick beckoned to one of the waiters then at the bar. He was a slender chap in a starched cap and a long white apron, who appeared bright enough to grasp a situation without having it hammered into him.
“I am a detective, one of Nick Carter’s staff,” Chick quietly informed him. “There is a woman in the third booth on this side of the hall. Have you noticed her?”
“Yes, sir,” nodded the waiter. “I serve at the tables nearest that booth.”
“Do you know her?”
“Only by sight. She comes in here quite often.”
“Can you get me a cap and apron like yours?”
“Yes, by asking the manager.”
“Where is he?”