Kennedy dropped the receiver on the table regardless of what might happen to its delicate adjustment, jumped up, and dashed out into the hall. Down-stairs he went, not waiting for an elevator, for it was only three flights.
We followed madly, past the amazed night clerk, and out the back door of the hotel.
As we entered the garage, in the fitful light we could see a dark mass on the floor. Craig flashed his electric bull’s-eye. In the circle of light we saw that it was a man. Craig turned the form over.
It was Mito—dead!
XV
THE NIGHT OF TERROR
In utter bewilderment we looked at one another. Evidently Mito had entered, had been surprised by some one, and in a fight had been overpowered and killed.
Quickly I tried to reason it out. Plainly, even if the Jap had been the murderer of Marshall Maddox for the plans, he could not have been the thief of the telautomaton model in New York. Yet he must have known something about it all. Had we begun to get too close to Mito for some one’s comfort?
Where was the annihilator which was to revolutionize warfare and industry? In whose hands were the secrets of the “patent of death”? Who was the master criminal back of it all?
Mito’s lips were sealed, at least.