It was a two and a half story building, with a sloping tin roof, of an archaic architecture, in a state of terrible decay and dilapidation, and quite in keeping with the neighbourhood.  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.  And now, as for me, I’m going uptown and get a few hours’ sleep.”

Dillon and McBirney followed, leaving us, shortly, to get a couple of men from the nearest police station to see that none of the cars were taken out before morning.

We rode up to our apartment, where a message was awaiting us, telling that Warrington had passed a very good day and was making much more rapid progress than even Dr. Mead had dared hope.  I could not help wondering how much was due to the mere tonic presence daily of Violet Winslow.

I had a sound sleep, although it was a short one.  Garrick had me up early, and, by digging back in his closet, unearthed the oldest clothes he had.  We improved them by sundry smears of dirt in such a way that when we did start forth, no one would have accused us of being other than we were prepared to represent ourselves—­ workmen who had been laid off from a job on account of bad business conditions.  We decided to say that we were seeking another position.

“How do I look?” I asked seriously, for this was serious business to me.

“I don’t know whether to give you a meal ticket, or to call a cop when I look at you, Marshall,” laughed Garrick.

“Well, I feel a good deal safer in this rig than I did last night, in this part of the city,” I replied as we hopped off a surface car not far from our destination.  “I almost begin to feel my part.  Did you see the old gink with the gold watch on the car?  If he was here I believe I’d hold him up, just to see what it is like.  I suppose we are going to apply for lodgings at the famous hostelry, the Old Tavern?”

“I had that intention,” replied Garrick who could see no humour in the situation, now that we were on the scene of action.  “The place looks even more sordid in daylight than at night.  Besides, it smells worse.”