“Silas Harshaw,” said the detective, “is S. H.!”
CHAPTER II
A STRANGE DEATH
EARLY evening found Detective Joe Cardona in Silas Harshaw’s apartment at the Redan Hotel. There, the detective anxiously awaited the arrival of Commissioner Ralph Weston.
The death of the old inventor was the very type of mystery that the commissioner had been awaiting.
Harshaw’s suite occupied one entire side of the building. It was on the top floor of the old hotel.
Cardona stood at the entrance of the apartment, beside the door which had been smashed from its hinges.
Within the apartment was Detective Sergeant Mayhew, who was taking orders from Cardona.
A clinking sound announced the ascending of the elevator. The slow-moving car was on its way to the tenth floor. When it arrived, two men stepped out.
One was Commissioner Weston. The other was a tall, stoop-shouldered man, whose shrewd eyes peered through gold-rimmed spectacles. The man’s high forehead and overhanging brow indicated him a scholar.