"238, sir."

"Good; we'll try our luck after we finish dinner; there will be a couple
of hours of daylight yet. Are you game, Sexton?"

"Quite so, sir."

The sinking sun was still above the sky-line of the buildings fronting on
Milwaukee Avenue, when the two men alighted at the intersection of Gans
Street. West hardly took the adventure seriously, being more influenced
by curiosity than any other motive, but Sexton was deeply in earnest, in
full faith they were upon the right trail. Doubtful as he was, West had
neglected no precautions. The map assured him that they were invading a
disorderly section of the city, where to be well-dressed would only
invite suspicion, and might lead to trouble. To avoid this possibility,
he had donned his most shabby suit, and wore a cap largely concealing his
face. In one pocket of his jacket within easy reach lay hidden his
service revolver loaded, and he had induced Sexton to accept a smaller
weapon in case of emergency.

Gans Street was not inviting, the saloon on the corner being flanked by
several small factories. The brick side-walk was in bad condition, and
littered with junk of all kinds, while the road-way was entirely uncared
for, and deeply rutted from heavy traffic. Half way down the block, was a
tannery, closed now for the night, but with its odour yet permeating the
entire atmosphere. Altogether, the scene was desolate and disagreeable
enough, but the street was deserted of pedestrians, the factory doors
tightly closed for the night.

The two men pressed their way through along the narrow passage, finding