“Quit the game, Slugger. I’ve fixed it.” Sloan turned his shifty gray eyes upon her, but did not stir from his chair. The gambler’s passion was the strongest in his evil nature. “Will she see him?” he asked, scarce above his breath. “Yes.” “When?” “As soon as he can get there.” “Her crib, Moll?” “Yes. Get a move on,” Moll Damon whispered impatiently. “It’s more important than this piking business. Go and send him up there. You know where to find him.” Sloan pushed his chips toward the dealer to be cashed. “You hike home and stay there,” he muttered to the woman. “I’ll see him and set him going. Leave it to me.” Chick caught Patsy’s eye and signaled for him to shadow the woman. Half a minute later he followed Slugger Sloan from the house. Moll Damon was waiting outside, on a corner, for the crook. They met again and talked for several moments. Chick and Patsy watched them from the stuss-house doorway, the former stating what he had overheard. “Why are you banking so strong on it?” Patsy questioned. “Because I happen to know that Sloan and Taggart were good friends,” said Chick. “Gee! it may be then that Sloan was in the job last night.” “That’s the very point.” “But whom is he going to see, and why----” “Wait! We’ll find out.” The couple had moved on and were crossing the street. The detectives shadowed them to a house in the next block, which both entered. Five minutes later both emerged, in company with--Gaston Goulard. “Eureka!” Chick quietly exclaimed. “I was right, Patsy. They’re our men.” “It’s Goulard, all right, as sure as blazes,” chuckled Patsy. “The game certainly is breaking cover.” “They’re going to separate. Goulard is going to leave them.” The three crooks were lingering briefly at the foot of the steps. “Shall we shadow him?” questioned Patsy. “You do so,” Chick directed. “I’ll follow Sloan and the woman. They may have more up their sleeves. They’re a bad pair.” “Have you any suspicion where Goulard is going?” Patsy asked. “A suspicion only,” Chick nodded. “He is going to the home of some woman, judging from what that jade said to Sloan. It may be to the home of Sadie Badger.” “In that case----” “He’s off,” Chick interrupted. “Don’t lose sight of him.” Gaston Goulard had abruptly left the couple and was hurrying away. “So long!” nodded Patsy. “If I lose sight of him, Chick, I’ll chuck my job.” Goulard was hastening toward Third Avenue, where he boarded a north-bound elevated train. Patsy Garvan occupied the same car. Twenty minutes later, without the slightest idea that he was the subject of an espionage, Goulard left the train and walked rapidly east. He brought up in the low section on the water front in which Nick Carter had arrived not more than half an hour before.