CHAPTER I. THE HUNTED MAN
THE hand that held the key trembled. At last it found the lock. The key turned. A tall man stepped into the dim hallway, and closed the door behind him.
A slight sigh came from his lips — lips thin and parched, that showed above the heavy muffler which covered the man’s neck, even to his chin.
Slowly, the man moved along the hallway. He turned suspiciously as he reached the stairs, glancing back at the door. The glass transom above it worried him.
He thought of the dark vestibule, which obtained its only rays of light through that very transom. He remembered the nervousness that had gripped him while he had fumbled with the key. He listened, as though he expected some one else to unlock the door.
Now the man laughed nervously. He started up the stairs, his fears banished. His tall, stoop-shouldered figure seemed to stalk upward like a mechanical dummy.
At the landing, halfway to the second floor, he stopped; then continued on his journey, with that same slow, methodical stride.
Another key grated in the lock of the vestibule door. The slight sound began just after the man on the landing had again moved toward the second floor.
The vestibule door opened. A short, broad-shouldered man slipped into the hallway.
He closed the door noiselessly. His eyes gleamed in the dim light as he stared toward the landing below the second floor. His firm face took on a pleased expression.