It was evening when they made it to Stevenson’s. Louse Alley, one of the poorer parts of town, was populated by the dregs of Washington. Crowded onto small dirt lots, the houses seemed to all be looking over each other’s shoulders. A few houses were nearly touching, with small dingy footpaths in between, and walls blocking out the fading sunlight. Weeds surrounded Stevenson’s small house and the unpainted side was weathered gray.
Leaving his horse behind, Jack walked by the house and took in the surroundings. His eyes looked down the street where several women and children vacantly watched him from their porches. An old man on a wagon tapped his donkey with a switch and ignored Jack as he passed by.
He walked back around the block and returned to a waiting Ezra. “I don’t see anybody suspicious around.”
“Everyone looks suspicious in this neighborhood,” his partner replied flatly.
Jack laughed. “You’re right about that. We had better take the horses away so they won’t be stolen. Once we drop them off at the livery, we can wait for night to fall. Then we can take a walk around to the back of his house and see if we can find a way in.”
“That sounds like a good idea as long as Stevenson isn’t home.” his partner replied.
“Don’t worry. With Abbott safely away that won’t be a problem.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Come on, let’s take a little detour and then see if we can find anything inside.”