Upon reaching home Nancy wrote down the incomplete name and address which she had glimpsed on the card in the young man’s wallet. Curiously she stared at the letters:

thson

ter St.

“If I can only fill these out, I may be able to contact someone who knows Mr. Baum.”

Nancy pored over the telephone directory, eliminating name after name. Finally she came to one that seemed to be a good possibility-J. J. Smithson, 25 Oster Street.

“That might be worth investigating.”

The next afternoon she walked with Bess and George to Oster Street in the business section.

J. J. Smithson proved to be the owner of a small leather-goods shop. He readily answered Nancy’s questions. Francis Baum had worked for him only a few days. “He didn’t like this kind of work,” the man said. “I haven’t seen Baum since the day he quit, but I believe he still lives at Mrs. Kent’s guesthouse nearby.”

Nancy obtained the address, and the girls continued on. Mrs. Kent, the landlady, repeated Francis Baum’s name, then shook her head.

“He was here,” she said, “but moved out.”

“Did he leave a forwarding address?” Nancy asked.

“No, he didn’t. I’ll tell you how you might trace him, though. He sends his laundry to the Eagle Home Service.”

“Isn’t that across the river?” Nancy inquired.

“Yes, it is-a long distance from here.”

The girls thanked Mrs. Kent for the information, then discussed what they should do.

“Let’s go by ferryboat tomorrow,” Bess suggested, and the others agreed.

On the way home Nancy chose a route past the old apartment building where the pickpocket had nearly been caught.

“You don’t expect him to be here!” Bess gasped.

“It won’t hurt to look,” Nancy replied.

Windows on the lower floor were wide open. As the girls slowly passed one of them, they heard angry voices coming from inside.