They then had brought up near the rag shed in which Nick had found the disguised crook, and some twenty yards from the grim and gloom-shrouded stone building.
“Gee! this don’t look good to me!” Patsy whispered, at Chick’s elbow. “They sure have given us the slip.”
“It does look so,” Chick quietly admitted.
“There isn’t a sign of light from any of these miserable cribs. It ought to find its way out through some chink or nail hole, if they are under cover in any of them.”
“True.”
“We had better——”
“Hush! Stop a bit.”
“What now?” Patsy whispered, noting the changed expression on Chick’s face.
“There’s something doing.”
“What do you mean?”