The way into this dive of Grinnel's after the legal hours, and when it was supposed to be closed, was, strangely enough, through a house from the other side, and of course it followed that only the initiated—those who were known to the man at the door—could pass.
When Nick Carter and his first assistant left the house that particular Sunday night to go to Mike Grinnel's, the principal question was how they were to get inside the place at all.
Nick had no doubt in his mind whatever that if Black Madge were in town that she would be one who would most certainly visit Mike Grinnel's dive Sunday night, for that was the red-letter night of the week at that place among the inhabitants of the underworld.
He knew that she would feel perfectly secure against intervention there. He knew that she would have perfect confidence in the espionage which Mike Grinnel exercised in his place for the safety of his customers, for it was his boast that no thief or criminal of any sort had ever been arrested in his place and taken from it by the officers.
And, therefore, Nick felt sure that if he could but gain admission and Black Madge were in the city, which he did not doubt, he would find her there.
To enter a place of this kind one must be actually introduced; that is, vouched for by some frequenter of it. It will not suffice for one to apply at such a place, and state merely that he knows so-and-so and is all right; he will be turned down hard. But Nick Carter was never without resource in a matter of this kind, and, therefore, when he left the house with Chick, instead of going directly to Mike Grinnel's they took their way to police headquarters, where, as he knew would be the case, he found the inspector.
"Inspector," he said, "I noticed in the paper yesterday morning that Curly John had been arrested by one of your men and brought to headquarters on suspicion of being connected with that Liverpool bank robbery three months ago."
"That's correct," said the inspector. "Do you know anything about the case?"
"Not a thing in the world," said Nick, laughing; "but I want to use Curly John. I want to use him very badly. I want you to lend him to me for to-night, if you will."
The inspector could only stare his amazement. He had known Nick Carter a good many years, but never before had he received a request of this kind from him.