“We can hardly let Masson go out of sight,” said Chick.
“And yet,” said Nick, “we have not enough basis on which to detain him. We have got to meet this another way.
“The name of his yacht is the Derelict. When he is not aboard, it lies in the East River, off Twenty-third Street. Patsy, there is some work for you to do.”
The famous detective got up from his chair, and began pacing up and down the apartment, keeping it up for a long time. When he stopped he dropped again into his chair, and said:
“I am satisfied that this move of Masson’s bears some relation to the case we have in hand. What, I am not able to figure out. But we must get ‘onto’ it, to use Patsy’s words, and Patsy, you must be the one to get ‘onto’ it.”
“All right, chief,” said Patsy. “But you must tell me how.”
“Didn’t you tell me once that some summers ago you were on a yacht as a steward for a little while?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I think you will have to try and hire out as a steward on the Derelict.”
Patsy laughed, and replied: