The detective’s object now was to gain a position from which he could overhear what was going on there.
Seating himself in the outer room he called for glass after glass of whisky until he appeared to be in the last stage of intoxication.
Each time he paid the waiter from a large roll of bills.
“Here’s a seat at the table if you want to play,” said a man behind the roulette wheel.
“Guesh I’m too full t’ pla; guesh I’ll go to the hotel ’n go t’ bed,” said the man from Grand Rapids, Michigan.
“You’ll get run in if you go out on the street now. You’d better go back there and lay down a while. Pompey!”
Nick could hardly restrain a chuckle as he was led away by the obliging darky.
“They don’t let any one out of here with a roll of money like that,” he thought.
He was shown into a small room containing a couch, a mirror, and a small table.
As the negro left the room the detective heard a key turned in the lock.