“Jack Shea?”
“You’ve hit it the first jump,” said Jack. “This morning he and I, and the gal, took a run down to Flatbush. I got a job from him helping to carry furniture into their house.”
“You are certain you can find this house in Flatbush?” remarked Nick Carter.
“Oh, that’s easy, it’s No. —, Bay Street,” replied the youth.
“Did you see anyone at the house but the man and woman?”
“Yes; there were four or five plug-uglies there. One chap’s name is Luke—leastways, that’s what my gentleman called him.”
It was now late in the afternoon, and when Nick Carter and Tambourine Jack reached Flatbush it was dark.
They turned up Bay Street, but Nick had not gone above a hundred yards when he saw three men approaching, one of whom he recognized by his voice.
That one was Elmer Greer.
The detective’s first impulse was to seize his prey, but he thought better of it.