Three minutes later found him in the vestibuled doorway of a dwelling nearly opposite, from which he could see the electric-lighted avenue for a block in each direction. Chick reasoned, in view of Nick’s suspicions, that Bart Bailey might already have heard of his sister’s conduct and might possibly be seeking her that very evening, particularly if impending danger necessitated his early departure from the city. Chick had decided, in fact, that he would see Helen Bailey home after she parted from the girl who had accompanied her to the picture show. He knew that she would be in no danger while having a companion, and the vantage point he had selected enabled him to watch the avenue as far as the location mentioned by the landlady. “She’ll not return later than eleven o’clock, if she has gone to the movies,” he said to himself. “There is one chance in a hundred, at least, that Bart Bailey already is out to nail her. I’ll take that one chance, having nothing else to do.” All this was clever work on the part of the Carters, and it bore not unexpected fruit. Chick had been waiting less than half an hour when he saw a slender man in a dark suit coming down the avenue, whose movements immediately warranted suspicion. For he quickly crossed the avenue before arriving at the boarding house, then halted on the opposite side and gazed intently at the second-floor windows. “By Jove, I’m in right,” thought Chick, after watching him for several moments. “That’s my man, as sure as there’s juice in a lemon. He expected to find the girl at home, but sees that her room is not lighted. He’ll lie low and wait for her, taking a chance that she’ll return alone, unless I’m much mistaken.” Chick was not mistaken. Bart Bailey, for the detective had rightly identified him, suddenly recrossed the avenue, and, having glanced sharply around, he slunk into a basement doorway under the rise of stone steps leading up to the front door of the boarding house. “Does he intend to enter, or will he wait for the girl?” Chick asked himself. “I’ll remain here until she comes, at all events. If he does not then show up, I’ll cross over and enter with her. I’ll give the rat no chance to harm her, let come what may.” Chick’s uncertainty was not of long duration. The man under the steps, if still there, continued to lie low. Twenty minutes passed, and the watching detective then saw two girls stop at a house nearly a block away. He could see them quite distinctly, the avenue in that locality then being deserted. They parted after a few moments, one entering the house, the other hurrying north. Half a minute brought her nearly to the boarding-house steps--from under which darted a sinister figure that immediately blocked her way. Chick heard the half-subdued cry of alarm that broke from her, as well as what followed. “Bart!” she cried, shrinking. “You here!” “You bet I’m here!” The reply came with a wolfish snarl. “So you’d have let ’em get me, would you?”