“No,” Gladwin corrected, realizing his break.
“Then you better go along with Ryan. Ryan, you take him upstairs and sit by him till I send for you.”
“See here,” the young man began to splutter as the giant Ryan seized him and walked him on air out of the room and up the stairs.
Kearney went to the folding doors and shut them.
“He’s in this room somewhere,” muttered the detective, going to the portières that curtained the window leading out to the balcony.
He was almost touching Wilson when the latter suddenly enveloped him in the portière he had wrapped around himself and hurled the big detective to the floor. As Kearney was untangling himself Wilson darted between the portières, glanced out the window and saw that a leap from the balcony would land him in the arms of three patrolmen. He shook open the window and then shrank back into the far corner of the embrasure.
Kearney was on his feet again and sprang out to the balcony.
“He came out this way,” he yelled to the men below. “Did he jump off?”
Kearney darted back into the room, looked everywhere, ran to the folding doors and flung them open. Then he looked back at the panel door, noticed that it was ajar and dived for it.
“He’s hiding somewhere in this black alley,” he said with an oath, and disappeared.