Nevertheless a bright gilt sign over a side door read, "Hotel
Entrance."
"I think we can get in there to-morrow on some pretext," decided
Garrick after our inspection of the "Old Tavern," as the crazy
letters, all askew, on one of the windows denoted the place. "The
Old Tavern looks as if it might let lodgings to respectable
gentlemen--if they were roughly enough dressed. We can get
ourselves up as a couple of teamsters and when we get in that will
give us a chance to pick up the ends of those wires to-morrow.
That will be time enough, I'm sure, and it is the best we can do,
anyhow."
We returned from our walk around the block to the garage where
Dillon and McBirney were waiting for us.
"I leave you free to do what you please, Dillon," answered Garrick
to the commissioner's inquiry, "as long as you don't pinch this
place which promises to be a veritable gold-mine. McBirney, I
know, will reduce the number of cars here tomorrow by at least
two. But don't, for heaven's sake, let out any suspicion about
those things I have just hidden here.
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