Cardona was surprised at the stealth which the man must have used. He knew that Middleton could not have been gone more than sixty seconds, and that perhaps he was already with Blefken.
But Cardona knew that every second was precious, when crime was in the offing. Middleton and his talk of danger savored of crime. Pushing the chair aside, the detective hurried into the hall.
He slipped into the shadow of the door, for he knew that Middleton might return, and the sight of a stranger would make him believe that he had been betrayed.
In another second, Cardona was standing before the little passage that led to the side door of the house. The detective was suspicious of that passage. He waited, while his eyes became accustomed to the darkness.
He wanted to investigate in that direction. He also thought of hiding there, should Middleton return.
Suddenly, Joe Cardona realized that something was lying in the passage — a bulky shape that appeared very much like the form of a man. It must be Middleton! Had the man started to leave the house and fallen? Or was he crouching there for some unknown purpose?
Cardona moved to the corner of the passage. He listened intently. He heard no sound of breathing; no one was approaching.
The detective’s flashlight clicked. Its rays revealed the form of a man — a body lying on its side. The form did not move.
“Middleton,” was the name framed by the detective’s lips, as he stepped quickly forward.
Then he saw the face!