“I wish I knew a little more about the case,” grumbled Patsy. “That would make it easier for me to work.”
“I don’t know that it would make it any easier,” was Nick Carter’s dry rejoinder. “You know that all I require of you as a rule is to obey orders—unless you are on a case by yourself.”
“That’s so,” rejoined Patsy, with a sly grin. “But I’ve heard you say that no rule should be so iron bound that it cannot be twisted when the occasion calls for it. All I would like to know, if you see fit to tell me, is what we are after.”
Patsy Garvan was not sure in what way his chief would receive this rebellious protest. He was relieved, therefore, when he saw Nick smile.
“I’ll tell you that much,” conceded the detective: “There is a man called Miguel and another named Solado who are trying to prevent Prince Marcos getting back to his own country by the eighteenth. I believe they are holding Marcos in this old ice house.”
“And what about Chick?” asked Patsy.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think he is in this place, too?”
“He may be. We are going to find out.”
“That’s the talk,” responded Patsy. “Let’s hurry! How are you going to get in? Knock at the front door?”