“Hotel Metrolite,” said Harry to the cabman.
The words were loud enough to be heard by the concealed observer.
As Harry’s cab rolled away, the watching man came into the light. He was of medium height. He was wearing a dark overcoat, which had made his form indistinct in the darkness.
In the light of the avenue, the man’s face was visible. It formed an evil, sinister countenance, with wicked lips that grinned maliciously.
The man whistled to a passing cab. The vehicle pulled up to the curb. The watcher entered.
“Hotel Metrolite,” he ordered. “Make it quick!”
The cab shot away. Then, from the thick darkness of the side street, another form emerged. A tall figure in black came into view. He was attired in a flowing cloak that hung from his shoulders. His visage was concealed beneath the broad brim of a slouch hat.
From an unseen post in the darkness, this man of the night had seen all that had transpired. Now, with long, swift strides, he was moving along the avenue, toward the kiosk of a subway station, a block away.
The tall, black-clad figure disappeared into the subway. Less than a minute later, an express rumbled into the station and stopped at the platform beneath the street. It was bound downtown.
THE next trace of the man in the black cloak was when he appeared in front of the Metrolite Hotel. His soft hat was turned down over his eyes. He merged with the blackness at the side of the building.