Nolan caught sight of him at one of the front windows. He could see his dark face between the lace draperies. He watched it intently, with even a more sinister look in his own keen eyes.
Garland evidently was watching for the expected man.
“I’ll sneak out when he isn’t watching, and then show up on the corner,” Nolan said to himself. “He won’t be wise, then, to the fact that I got here first. I’ll put something over on him, all right, or I’ve doped out this business all wrong.”
Something like five minutes later, after waiting for a favorable opportunity, Nolan appeared on the street corner opposite Garland’s residence. He had been waiting only a moment when the latter emerged from the house and hastened over to join him.
“Well, you’re here, Nolan, at last,” he said, a bit curtly.
“Sure I’m here, boss,” Nolan nodded. “You can always bank on my making good.”
“Have you done what Hart directed?”
“The geeser who hired me? Yes, of course. I sure have done it. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” said Nolan, with an expressive leer.
“Well, what did you learn?” Garland demanded, more sharply eying him.
“I followed the two blokes down Fifth Avenue about three blocks, but I couldn’t get next to anything they were saying,” Nolan proceeded to report. “They parted on a corner, and then I followed the big guy, him as put the peppery spiel in the pawnshop.”