“Well, it isn’t the stuff that’s coming on,” said Chick, “for there was nothing doing for Lannigan and his lads when we got in.” “No,” replied Patsy. “I don’t suppose there’s anything else for us to do but to hold and keep Lannigan under watch.” “We can hardly undertake to enter that house,” said Chick; “but we’re on to it, and, perhaps, we can find something out about it afterward.” This conversation had taken place in a doorway on the other side of the street in which they were hiding. In a moment or two their appearances were wholly changed and they were ready when Lannigan and the two who had entered with him came out with a fourth and went up the street. The two detectives followed, of course. “I say, Chick,” said Patsy, “did you see how Lannigan came out of that house and how he looked to see if anybody was about?” “Yes, I saw that,” said Chick. “He was suspicious.” “Of being followed?” “Not of us, probably, but of anybody seeing where they go.” The way of the four was now back in the direction of the more thickly settled part of the city. Finally they reached a corner house, the lower part of which was a drinking place. The house was a peculiar structure, entrance to the upper story being gained by a high stoop from the outside. Back of it was another building, separated from it by narrow iron bridges on every one of the four floors. This rear building was not as wide as the one in front, so that there was a space of a few feet between that building and the cross street. This space was concealed by a high board fence, which, to the two young detectives, looked more like the side of a house than a fence. There were large double doors in this fence. But they were closed. The fourth man stopped the three on the corner and seemed to direct attention of the three to these double doors. Lannigan walked up several steps and looked at the doors more closely. Then he went back to the three, saying something. A little later, the four entered the drinking saloon. The two detectives stood still in their place of concealment, wondering what all this meant. “Chick,” said Patsy, “this is the place that Lannigan said he would go to with the others.” “We must go in and see what it’s like,” said Chick. Certain that they had not been observed, they stepped out on the sidewalk and inspected the house more closely. A man came up and stood near them. The two detectives, looking at him closely, satisfied themselves that he had no purpose in this, but was merely lounging there. “Live about here?” asked Patsy, of the man. “Yes, all my life,” replied the man. “That’s a queer place over there,” said Patsy, pointing to the saloon they had under watch. “Fly-cops?” asked the man, in return. Chick turned sharply on the man and then laughed. “What makes you ask that question? Do we look like fly-cops?” “No,” said the man, “I don’t know that you do. But that might be the very reason why you are.” The man laughed a little bit, and added: