After about an hour’s hard work, his efforts were rewarded. By this time the rumor that the case was a murder had begun to spread in the precinct.
The local detectives were out on it, and they dropped a word here and there which was taken up and borne along.
In the course of Nick’s search he worked along the cross-town street toward Ninth Avenue, finding out what every person knew.
At last, just in the doorway of one of the large apartment houses he found a man and woman talking about the case. Both of them were known to the police.
The man was a hardened young rascal, not long out of the penitentiary. The woman was known as “Crazy Mag,” though she was not really insane.
She was somewhat intoxicated, and was talking loudly. Nick entered the hall and pretended to be looking for a name on the bell rack.
“Shut up, Mag,” he heard the young tough whisper. “You’ll get yourself into trouble.”
“What’s the matter with you?” she exclaimed, roughly. “I saw the woman come out of No. 349. Why shouldn’t I say so?”
“I’ll tell you why,” said her companion. “Because that woman was put out of the way by Doc Helstone’s gang, and if you talk too much you’ll follow her.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised if you were right,” said Nick to himself. “At any rate, this clew settles one thing—I take the contract to trap Doc Helstone’s gang.”