Obviously, there was no exit from the body of the house at the rear. There was only a basement door opening into the tiny back yard, and that was connected with the laundry.
The detective decided, as a result of their general knowledge of such houses, not to bother with the back at all. Their plan was to march boldly up the front stairs, outside, fit a skeleton key to the lock, and enter the hall.
They argued that, owing to the fact that the basement was sublet, any crooked work that might be going on would be likely to be confined to the second or third floor to prevent suspicion on the part of those connected with the laundry.
Therefore, they hoped to find the first floor deserted. If that were the case, it was improbable that their entrance would be discovered prematurely.
There was, doubtless, a flight of steps at the rear of the house, leading down to the laundry from the first floor; but they were practically certain that these rear stairs did not ascend above the main floor. If they did not, there was no way of retreat for the occupants of the upper part of the house, except by the front stairs, and, as the detective meant to climb them, it seemed reasonable to suppose that Grantley, Chester & Company could easily be trapped.
Nick and Chick returned to the street and made their way, without the slightest attempt at concealment, toward the suspected house.
They met no one whose recognition was likely to be embarrassing, and saw no faces at the upper windows as they climbed the outer steps.
They had already seen to it that their automatics were handy, and now Nick produced a bunch of skeleton keys and began fitting them, one after another.
The fifth one worked. They stepped into the hall as if they belonged there—taking care to make no noise, however—and gently closed the doors behind them.
The adventure was well under way, and, technically speaking, they were already housebreakers.