“The fact that both of them vanished in this locality is significant,” Chick replied. “If only one had come here, I might think nothing of it. Under the circumstances, however, it’s ten to one that the gang has quarters in this section.”
“Gee! there’s something in that,” said Patsy, quick to see the point. “In one of these old buildings, perhaps.”
“Are you fit for a search?” asked Chick, still a bit anxious.
“As fit as a fiddle,” Patsy assured him.
“Take one of my revolvers, then,” said Chick, giving it to him. “We may run foul of some one.”
“I’ll be ready for him. I hope it may be that whelp that downed me. I can see where he’d get his.”
Chick laughed softly.
“Come on,” he muttered, leading the way. “We’ll steal through the alley and have a look at the back of these buildings.”
Patsy followed him.
For something like five minutes they searched cautiously and noiselessly back of the gloomy buildings and between the sheds and hovels, but could find in the darkness no trace of the vanished rascals, no clew to their whereabouts.