"Two plain clothes men went in and a couple more stood outside. The clerk said yes, he was in his room. Was registered under the name of Gordon. They went up and knocked. No answer. Knocked again. Still no answer. They broke down the door, and found——"

"What?" asked Fuller.

"That Warwick was gone. On the floor lay a traveling bag like the one he took from here, slashed open and empty, and beside it lay an unknown Japanese—stabbed through the heart."


[CHAPTER XI]

A Ray of Light

The late editions of the evening-papers ran riot with this latest feature of the Morse case. The New York police, by happy chance, had pounced upon the warm trail as soon as the young Englishman stepped from the train. What followed was so totally unexpected by the authorities that it set them into a violent state of agitation. This they at once communicated to the ever receptive "yellows," and then the public received more than its due share of the developments as served upon scores of front pages.

"Who the Japanese is is a mystery to the police and the hotel people," declared the Star in triple-leaded feature type. "How he got into the hotel and up to Warwick's room is, as yet, a thing which, so they claim, has baffled the best efforts of all concerned. But what he meant to do when he reached the room is in the opinion of this journal a matter that will prove infinitely more taxing upon the wit of the detective department."

Fuller read column after column of such comment. The various people who had figured in the matter were separately interviewed and their ideas were given much space. The railway porter, who had sprung into fame by recognizing Warwick and who had had the awesome experience of carrying the much spoken of leather bag from the day coach to the cab outside, related his feelings when he later became aware of his patron's identity, and told of his hunt for the policemen who had given him the young man's description. The cabman also talked thrillingly, as did the clerk and the bell-boy who led the detectives to the door of Warwick's room. As for the police, they appeared to have maintained an attitude of much wisdom. What utterances they condescended to make were of a peculiarly Delphic character; and, as is usual, they hinted at astonishing revelations which limited periods of time would bring forth.