"Sure, I see it," he said.
"That's Number Sixteen Rue Chartres," Freddy said. "Another bit of luck for me. This place, I mean. When scrounging around early yesterday morning, I noticed that this place was all tumbled down, and not a soul living here. I decided to find a good place to hide in case I had to. Imagine how good I felt when I discovered that if I wished, I could sit here all day and keep an eye on Number Sixteen!"
"Luck, my eye!" Dave grinned, and patted Freddy on the back. "It was using the old bean, and you know it. I bet you'd already spotted that alley going off Rue Chartres and came around on this street to see what was what."
"Well, I was lucky to find this place like it is, anyway," Freddy said with a shrug. "And—Look, somebody has just put on a light over there! He keeps it burning all day long. An oil lamp, I fancy. With the windows that dirty, I fancy he jolly well has to have some sort of a light inside. He's up and about now, Dave! Shall we—"
"Nix!" Dave cut him off short. "Not we! Just me!"
"I say, Dave—!"
Dave grinned and put up both hands for silence.
"Keep your shirt on, Freddy!" he said. "You're still forgetting about those duds you're wearing. You might not get ten feet before they'd have you by the scruff of the neck. I'll go and—No!"
Freddy blinked and looked startled.
"What's the matter, Dave?" he asked.