Pulling a revolver, he fired through the opening; then he clambered to the chair and managed to raise his head and shoulders to the level of the roof.
He fired twice, toward where he thought he saw a fleeting form. The only answer was a rippling, fading laugh.
THE officer had scarcely viewed the departing assailant. But for the blow that he had received, he would have sworn that the vague figure was no more than a phantom shape.
The weird returning laugh was an incredible, fantastic sound.
Descending into the room, the police man noted that the two men were hard at work, endeavoring to resuscitate Throckmorton.
The presence of a man who had escaped placed a serious aspect upon this tragedy. The officer hurried down the steps and called headquarters.
Fifteen minutes later, the message was relayed to Joe Cardona at the Redan Hotel, where the star detective had been summoned by an urgent call from Mayhew.
Word of this new tragedy brought a grim expression to Cardona’s lips. The name of James Throckmorton fitted with the new initials on the fourth note.
J. T. could be no one else!
Leaving orders with Mayhew, Cardona set out at once. His subordinate put through phone calls in accordance with brief instructions.