“In that case——”
“He’s off,” Chick interrupted. “Don’t lose sight of him.”
Gaston Goulard had abruptly left the couple and was hurrying away.
“So long!” nodded Patsy. “If I lose sight of him, Chick, I’ll chuck my job.”
Goulard was hastening toward Third Avenue, where he boarded a north-bound elevated train.
Patsy Garvan occupied the same car.
Twenty minutes later, without the slightest idea that he was the subject of an espionage, Goulard left the train and walked rapidly east. He brought up in the low section on the water front in which Nick Carter had arrived not more than half an hour before.
There were comparatively few people in the street, which made it necessary for Patsy to proceed quite cautiously. He crossed to the opposite side from Goulard, remaining some thirty yards behind him, and noted, with some surprise, that he began to appear suspicious when approaching the lower end of the street. He was on the same side as the long wooden block, of which Sadie Badger occupied the last dwelling.
Goulard was glancing sharply at the house, and once back over his shoulder. Upon arriving at the last door, moreover, he merely glanced at it and walked on, not stopping until he came to the river wall, and opposite a two-story building, on which was the lime sign previously mentioned.
“Gee! I wonder what that signifies,” thought Patsy. “He’s got something on his mind. He seems to fear that the house may be watched.”