Patsy could not help showing surprise in his look and tone, and Nick regarded him imperturbably.
“How did you know, chief?”
“That doesn’t matter. Where is he?”
“I’ll take you to him if you like. But you’ll have to break into a house.”
“Very well. We’ll break in,” answered Nick, as if the act of burglary were a matter of everyday experience. “Tell Chick. I’ve sent him to his room to lie down for a while. He’ll have a very short rest, from the look of things.”
CHAPTER XVI.
A SECRET OFFER.
The house to which Patsy tracked T. Burton Potter was one of those old-fashioned residences of the kind in which the wealthy and exclusive members of New York’s society lived half a century ago, and which are plentiful in some of those quiet streets in the neighborhood of Washington Square.
There are gardens in front of some of them, just as there were fifty years ago, and at the back there are still other gardens, with flower beds and trees, in which people who have their homes in these pleasant localities stroll about on summer evenings.
Many of the houses are now devoted to boarders and lodgers, but a few are, to this day, occupied by private families who can afford the luxury of a whole house.