“Hardly!” said Nick. “You see that window at the top of the building? It is a door, in fact, boarded up.”
“Yes.”
“And you see the chute from it to the water? That is where they used to draw up the ice when it was brought here in boats. They did not get ice from these salt meadows, of course. But there are fresh-water streams not far away, and the ice was brought from them and stored here, handy to send to Jersey City and Hoboken.”
“Well?” asked Patsy.
“I am going up that chute.”
“You’ll be seen, won’t you?”
“Not likely. In the first place, there is a heavy fog, and, secondly, the windows in the living portion of the building are on the other side.”
“You seem to know a great deal about this old ice house,” observed Patsy.
“I do. This is not the first time I’ve looked it over. I should have made an investigation here soon, even if there had been no Prince Marcos case.”
Patsy Garvan would have liked to ask why. But he felt that he had catechized his chief about as much as was safe. So he held back his curiosity and prepared to obey orders.