“I followed him to a room on the Bowery. He was in that room about twenty minutes. When he came out, he was again in disguise, but the nature of the masquerade this time made my task of identification easy.”
“What was it this time?”
“An almost perfect counterpart of Victor Redway as you described him to me.
“He had a cab waiting at the sidewalk. I suspected that the cab was there for his use, and I had one ready to follow. He lost no time in getting over to Brooklyn. I didn’t lose him en route.
“He drove to a house on Atlantic avenue, and went in. When he came out, he had a little girl with him whom he handed into the cab, got in after her, and was driven away.”
“A little girl!” gasped Mrs. Lock, with a hand pressed to her heart.[{60}]
“The original of the picture in Redway’s watch,” said Chick.
“Oh, Heavens! My child—Estelle!”
“Do not get excited, Mrs. Lock,” cautioned Nick. “The little girl will not be harmed, and will be safely in your arms in good time.”
“But, sir, she is in his hands—in the hands of a murderer.”