An open door near the office led into a side street. Near the door stood a motor cycle, with a pair of leather gloves and gaiters lying on the seat, while a leather jacket hung on a peg in the near wall.
"Do you own that machine?" inquired Patsy.
"Yes, sure," Steel nodded. "I use it sometimes to deliver hurry-up orders. It comes in handy."
"No doubt," Patsy allowed. "In regard to doing Nick Carter a service, Frank, there is something you can do for me."
"Good enough! You have only to name it, Mr. Garvan."
"This is strictly confidential, mind you."
"That goes without saying."
"And you must not afterward betray any interest in the house and person I shall mention."[Pg 22]
"Trust me, Garvan. I’ll be as dumb as an oyster."
"That’s dumb enough," said Patsy approvingly. "Do you know who occupies the first flat in that third house opposite, the one with the curtains drawn down?"