There were comparatively few people in the street, which made it necessary for Patsy to proceed quite cautiously. He crossed to the opposite side from Goulard, remaining some thirty yards behind him, and noted, with some surprise, that he began to appear suspicious when approaching the lower end of the street. He was on the same side as the long wooden block, of which Sadie Badger occupied the last dwelling. Goulard was glancing sharply at the house, and once back over his shoulder. Upon arriving at the last door, moreover, he merely glanced at it and walked on, not stopping until he came to the river wall, and opposite a two-story building, on which was the lime sign previously mentioned. “Gee! I wonder what that signifies,” thought Patsy. “He’s got something on his mind. He seems to fear that the house may be watched.” That, as a matter of fact, was precisely what Goulard feared, and he resolved not to enter the front door--which was the one and only reason why Nick Carter was discovered and caught by the gang a little later. CHAPTER VIII. THE TURNING TIDE. Patsy Garvan was right, as stated, in his interpretation of Gaston Goulard’s movements, and he remained concealed in the doorway to watch him. Goulard turned back after viewing the river and the near-by lime shed for several moments. He retraced his steps with the air of a man having no special business in that locality. But upon approaching the entrance to a narrow alley making in between the end of the block and an old wooden building, and seeing no sign of any person observing him, he darted quickly into the alley and disappeared. “Gee! that does settle it,” thought Patsy, at first impelled to follow him. “He thinks the Badger house is being watched. It must be that end house in the block, for he looked at that door when passing, but at no other. He must have decided to go in the back way. In that case--no, by gracious, I’ll not follow him. I’ll try to get that woman to help me.” The woman had just appeared at the basement dining-room windows of the next house. She had opened one of them and was setting a bucket of water on the ground outside, evidently intending to wash the window. She turned almost immediately and seated herself on the sill, with her feet in the room, and fished out two pieces of cloth from within. Patsy made a short detour and crossed the street, then sauntered toward her. He judged from her looks that she was not a servant, also that she was possessed of no great means, which he thought would be to his advantage. He stepped to the window on the sill of which she was seated, touching his hat and saying politely: “Pardon me, madam! Will you tell me who lives in this last house?” The woman, thin-featured and careworn, turned and regarded him curiously. “Certainly, sir,” she replied. “A man and woman named Badger.” “Are you acquainted with them?” The woman shook her head and smiled significantly.