“I see the point. I have often wondered why he could sell goods cheaper than his competitors. I inferred that his rent might be lower, and he keeps only one clerk, a man named Finley.”
“Many of his goods cost him less—at present,” Chick said significantly.
“I judge so, now,” smiled the other. “They unpack most of them in the area back of the store. A big case came in there this morning by express. It now is out there. I suppose they will open it, now that Finley has showed up. Yes, by Jove, they’re just coming out of the rear door.”
Chick directed the manager to remain in his office, and he then stole to a point from which he could easily see and hear the two men without being detected.
They had emerged from a back door of the store, and had opened another leading down a flight of stone steps to the basement. Barton Bailey already was working upon a large packing case, while Rudolph Meyers, a short, swarthy man of about fifty, stood looking on with a sinister grin.
“Another vindfall, eh?” he remarked, after a moment. “Another vindfall. If it proves to be as good as the last——”
“Much better, Meyers, and then some,” Bart Bailey interrupted, turning from his work. “I happen to know just what is in this one. I was with Murdock when the goods were packed.”
“You left him all right, eh?”
“As right as a trivet, Rudolph.”
“Not one is yet wise, eh?”