“The old home of Blanche Constant, then?” asked Chick.
“Yes,” replied Nick. “I only know it by the fact that this is the street and that is the number.”
At that moment there was a noise, as if the door of the house was being opened, made distinct by the silence which reigned in the street.
The two detectives immediately slipped into concealment of the first doorway, and watched.
The man came out, carefully closing the door after him, and, coming down the steps, stopped a moment on the sidewalk, where the light from the arc lamp fell full on his face.
“Brown-bearded and brown-haired,” remarked Nick, in a whisper.
The man under watch finally turned and walked off toward the lower corner. Chick slipped out and across the street, directly in his rear. He did not attempt to follow the man, but watched him walk away. Then he slipped back to Nick on his tiptoes, saying, eagerly:
“By thunder, chief, that man walks with a hitch and jerk of his right shoulder.”
“I thought I saw that myself,” replied Nick. “Under other circumstances we’d follow that man, but now our business is to find Ida.”
As a matter of fact, they did follow the man, but only because their ways were the same.