“That got it!” cried Cardona. “The radiator splits! It’s coming apart!”
THE two sections of the radiator were opening toward the detective like the front of a cupboard. But before the detective had spread the segments more than a few inches, Biscayne sprang forward and thrust him aside.
Cardona, crouching, lost his balance, and tumbled ignominiously on the floor.
The sections of the radiator sprang back into place. The detective glared angrily.
Biscayne, anxious-eyed, was extending his hand to help Cardona to his feet.
The others, amazed, were awaiting the explanation of his action. It came.
“Sorry, old man,” said the professor. “It just occurred to me that you were taking a mighty grave chance.
“Harshaw was by this radiator; maybe he was opening it the way you were doing right now. And Harshaw was killed—”
The thought dawned on Cardona.
“Thanks!” he exclaimed. “Harshaw wasn’t the only one, professor. That other fellow — the yegg — Max Parker was—”