The end had been gained. The young woman had been tracked to her home.
He went back to Fifth Avenue, and, turning the corner, came on Patsy awaiting him there.
As soon as he saw the young detective he began to laugh.
“You’ve struck a new kind of a boxer, Patsy,” he said.
“That’s right,” said Patsy. “And she can hit, too. Hanged if I don’t think she can hit harder than the young fellow she calls her brother.”
“Her brother?” asked Chick.
“That’s what she said he was.”
“Wasn’t it a stall?”
“They went into the same house together.”
“Perhaps so,” said Chick. “As a rule, however, brothers don’t usually run around at this hour of the night with a sister.”