“There is no knowing where the trail may lead you,” Chick said presently.
“I am in hope,” said Nick, “that it will lead again to the headquarters of the Great Diamond Syndicate. I have an idea that I would like a short talk with the man I met in the Houston Street house last night.”
“I wonder what’s become of the alleged reporter?” asked Chick. “He appeared to me to be rather an amusing chap.”
“You’ll probably find him with the old duffer who entertained Nick last night,” suggested Patsy. “Listen! I think they are passing out.”
The people in the private parlor were indeed leaving the room, one at a time, and quietly. There was no talking in the hall, and the door was closed after every departure. Nick smiled at the game he was playing.
“These syndicate fellows are all right,” he said. “It is something worth while when you get up against fellows who meet at first-class hotels instead of in some dark basement in the slums!”
The door to the private room opened and closed again. Nick, who was at the transom, motioned, and Patsy slipped out into the hall and stood some distance from the door.
“There are only two left in the room now,” said Nick. “They are Mantelle and a woman.”
Again the door opened, and Mantelle stepped out. The woman was a few paces behind him, but still in the room.
Patsy stepped forward from the other end of the hall.