Middleton’s voice died away in a slow, hoarse whisper. The man’s head dropped back in the chair. Harry listened by the side window. He heard nothing. He knew that Cardona could not be entirely noiseless. There were still important facts to learn.
“The mark of Charn,” murmured Middleton vacantly. “The mark of Charn. I saw it placed on Buchanan’s forehead. The mark—”
He gave a slight cough; then came a whispered gargle. Harry waited for him to speak again. He heard a slight hissing from Middleton, as though the man were exhaling between his teeth.
Then, the dim form of the man by the window slid to the right. Harry could see the whiteness of his face as it fell forward.
ACTING impulsively, Harry drew the shade of the side window. He leaped across and drew the shade at the rear. He turned on the single light. He saw Middleton, slumped sidewise in the chair.
Harry approached and raised the man’s head. Middleton was dead!
Upon his forehead was a small round spot — no larger than a dime. Harry knew now what the sizzling had meant. Some unseen assassin of the dark had killed this man, and left the mark upon his forehead.
The mark of Charn!
As Middleton’s head dropped back; Harry saw another mark — a thin white line that encircled the dead man’s throat. Middleton had been strangled by a slender noose. More than that — the noose was here!
Upon the floor, Harry’s eyes spied a small thread of red. He picked it up and examined it. It was thin, but strong — made of a material that resembled catgut.