Seizing the negro by the shoulder, he ran him out into the deserted street, and about a third of the way to Seventh Avenue.
Then he whistled in a peculiar manner. A form appeared out of the darkness.
“Patsy,” said Nick, “bring up the carriage.”
It was brought. Peter, gagged as well as bound, was bundled into it.
“Take him home,” said Nick to the driver. “Now, Patsy, follow me.”
He darted off in the direction of the alley.
“Stand here, as if on guard,” he whispered to Patsy. “When anybody who may by any possibility be one of Helstone’s gang comes along, press this bell four times. Don’t shut anybody out unless you’re perfectly sure we don’t want him.”
Having spoken these words, Nick ran up the alley. He feared that Benton, having heard the favorable signal, would be impatient for his customer.
In the little yard behind the house in which was the “fence,” there was no light whatever.
Nick found two or three steps leading up to a door which, by daylight, seemed to be frail, but was in reality strengthened by iron bands.