Some one else arose and crossed the floor.
Then the door was unlocked, opened, closed and locked again, and steps could be heard passing down the hall.
Rising quickly, Patsy went to a window overlooking the street, raised it, and looked down.
He was rewarded by seeing Yasmar come out, accompanied by a short, thickset man with an iron-gray mustache.
The second man looked like another Westerner.
“Bully!” exclaimed Patsy, withdrawing and closing the window. “When Gillman gets here, I must be in that other room.”
He went back to the door communicating with the other room.
A few moments’ work with a knife blade sufficed to pick out the paper, and a skeleton key did the rest.
After closing and locking the door from the other side, Patsy carefully replaced the paper in the keyhole and turned for a look at the room he was then in.
It was almost as bare as the apartment he had just left.