“And what are your plans?”
“You know the Dominion saloon?”
“Sure. It’s a crooked joint, although the police have never been able to get a line on it.”
“Right you are, Chick. Well, that is the hangout for the little fellows of the syndicate. I want you to go there and try and get a job as a waiter, or helper of some sort. They are always putting on ‘extras’ there. Get into a good disguise, and I will join you later.”
Without further parley, Chick went into the costume room, and within half an hour he was on his way to the Dominion.
It was some time later when Nick followed him, also in disguise. He took a cab, and was soon within a block of the saloon, a resort that was operated in the interests of one of the toughest gangs in New York.
Here he dismissed the cab and strolled up to the place he sought. He did not enter immediately, however. Pretending to be under the influence of liquor, he stood for a time in front of the place, hands in pockets, glancing tipsily at the show posters in the windows.
A perfect procession of crooks was passing into the place, and Nick was waiting to attract the attention of some of them. Presently he had his wish, for a confidence man known to the crooked profession as Blister called him to the doorway.
“Hello, there!” cried the crook. “You can’t see half of the show from the outside. Come in and have a bracer.”