Nick lost no time in making a close examination of the apartment.
He had sized up the negro carefully, and in five minutes he was a pretty good counterfeit of that sable gentleman.
A sound of voices now came faintly from the direction opposite from the entrance to the room he was in.
It was very indistinct, however, and after a moment’s inspection of the room beyond through the keyhole, the detective applied his pick-lock, and soon found himself in a small dark room from which he could hear the voices quite distinctly.
“I tell you it’s all right,” said a voice, with an oath.
“Well, it’s mighty strange that bets[{28}] should be picked up in two places in one day.”
The voice was that of the man with whom the detective had made the bets.
“You’re a suspicious chap, Brower,” said the first voice. “Ever since you made that twenty-thousand dollar daylight haul down on Wall Street you think everybody in town is after your money.”
“Well, I’ll go and make the bet in the morning, then.”
Nick, anxious to get a view of the man whose voice he did not recognize, stepped lightly on a table to look through the transom.