He went to the door, opened it a little, and listened. Everything was quiet. No doubt Nick Carter had gone to bed, and Patsy, of course, was in his own room. It would be safe to go out.
Chick knew the house so well that he could have gone down the stairs in darkness and let himself out without a sound. But there was a light in the hall, which was always kept burning all night, and it enabled Chick to get out that much easier.
“Well, I did that without disturbing anybody,” he murmured. “Now for a taxi and the laundry uptown. If I can only find Mike Donovan at his usual stand in Thirty-[Pg 25]fourth Street, I shall have somebody to help me if I should need him. Mike is a good man.”
He referred to a certain taxicab chauffeur whom he and Nick Carter both employed frequently. This chauffeur, Mike Donovan, was an ex-lightweight champion, and he enjoyed nothing so much as a good scrap, notwithstanding that he was no longer a professional pugilist. He was the same man who had taken Nick Carter to Mr. Anderton’s house earlier in the evening.
“Is that you, Mike?” asked Chick, stopping at a taxicab that was one of a row drawn up in front of a big hotel and looking in at the window. “Donovan, are you in there?”
“Faith an’ Oi am,” was the good-humored response, as Mike Donovan’s face came to the window. “Howly saints! If it ain’t Chick! Phwat do yez want, me bye? Is it annythin’ Oi can be afther doin’ fer yez?”
“Drive me in your cab to Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street and Third Avenue,” replied Chick. “Then I’ll tell you where to go.”
“Jump in,” was Mike Donovan’s response, as he got out of the cab and showed himself a rather small, but compact, middle-aged man, with red hair and a laughing, Irish face. “Oi wuz jest takin’ a rest, so I wuz, an’ hopin’ thot Oi moight git home in the marnin’ wi’out anny more thravelin’. But it’s yese’f thot’s welcome, Chick. An’ I wish there wuz to be a foight as well as a ride in the cab for both of us.”
“There may be that, Mike,” replied Chick dryly, as he took his seat inside, and Mike set the cab moving.
Mike did not reply, because he was busy with his wheels and levers. But it rejoiced his heart to know that there was likely to be a spice of adventure for him. Indeed, he had surmised there would be as soon as Chick hailed him. What would he be going uptown for in a hurry at two o’clock in the morning unless there were a ruction on the horizon? His earlier trip with Nick Carter told him there was some adventure promised, but he said nothing about that.