"Say, for the love of Pete, Dick, what's all this mystery about, and who found anything and where did the screams come from?" queried Garry, amazed at the strange turn events had taken.
Dick was about to make a reply, when Phil interrupted.
"All our stories can wait. First we must get the police. I've just left a dead man, and I have good reason to believe there was foul play."
"Then let's save our breath and hustle after an officer; we can compare notes later," said Garry.
They branched off Canal Street, up through a narrow thoroughfare, more alley than street, and soon found themselves on a well lighted business street. Here they moderated their pace, and after a brisk walk of three blocks, saw a policeman.
"You're the spokesman in this case, Phil, you know what this is all about, and we don't," directed Garry.
Approaching the officer, Phil stated the case. The policeman looked at them curiously, then appeared to be convinced of their honesty, and turning to a police box, notified the station, asking that the night lieutenant come at once. He told his superior where the place was, for knowing that section of the city, thoroughly, he immediately recognized it from Phil's description.
They made their way back, and going up the stairs, went at once to the room. Here the police officer looked about and then asked a few perfunctory questions of the boys.
"I guess you fellows better wait here till the lieutenant comes," he said finally.
"Does that mean we are under arrest?" queried Garry.