The fellow finally opened the door, and Nick stepped through the back parlor, passed into the hall leading to the kitchen, and entered the bathroom, from which a full view of the flat across the way could be had.
There was no light in the place, except such as crept in from the street lamps, but this was enough to show the detective that the man who had admitted him was dressed from head to foot, even to his collar and necktie.
“This is a strange time of night for a man to be sitting all dressed in a dark room,” thought the detective. “Perhaps I have come to the wrong place for help in capturing these burglars.”
Nick stood looking across the airshaft to the window of the back parlor opposite, but there was nothing to be seen there.
The window shades were drawn, and there was no sound of life in the dark space beyond them.
Then the detective heard a voice at his elbow:
“What are you doing?”
Nick did not like the fellow’s tone.
“Waiting,” he replied, shortly.
“You can’t wait much longer in my rooms.”