"Nope. He worked rather late, though, I think. He prob'ly walked down-stairs. The elevator boy skipped last night; so the box wa'n't working. I'm the janitor; just running the car till they can get another boy."
"Ah! So the elevator boy skipped, did he? What was his name?"
"Mickey Flynn. He'll have hard work getting another job, if I can prevent it, leaving me in the lurch like that!"
"Do you know where he lives?"
"Out on East One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Street, I believe. Let's see, I believe I got it writ down in my pocketbook somewhere. Did you want him?"
"I dropped a package in the car yesterday, or in Mr. Farralon's office, I don't know which. If I can't get into Farralon's office, I want to see the boy, in case he found it."
"Well, you'll never get it, then, I'll bet! But I'll give a look and see if I can find the address. Let's see. He come here about two months back." He looked over the greasy pages of the note-book till he found the page. "Here it is: 1575 East One Hundred and Fifty-sixth. That's right. Well, I hope you'll find your package, sir."
Astro went back to the cab and drove immediately to the address. It was a tenement swarming with children, and he was directed to the fifth floor, where, at his knock, the door was opened by Mickey himself. It took only a short talk to convince the boy that he would avoid trouble if he told what he knew immediately, and he explained his disappearance from his post of duty with considerable anxiety.
"I was in de box up to eight o'clock, all right.
