Then his hand shot out, the stuff lay in the open palm, and with it something more—a man's life.
[CHAPTER XVII]
MISS CHEYNE AGAIN
At the police station Cleek found Mr. Narkom awaiting him.
"You look worried," he said, with a twitch of his head and a lift of the eyebrows in that gentleman's direction.
"I am worried," responded the Superintendent, excitedly. "Cleek, I thought you were never coming! I've a search warrant here for Cheyne Court." Speaking, he drew Cleek in through the door of Constable Roberts' private sanctum and shut it sharply behind him. "If we don't find something to throw a little light on the matter I will eat my head."
"And a very indigestible quantity you'll find it, too," retorted Cleek with a laugh. "We'd better be getting along at once, the sooner the better, and try to get to the bottom of this most distressing affair."
For answer Mr. Narkom grabbed his hat, clapped it upon his head and together they went out to the red limousine. Petrie and Hammond, who had arrived and were in the ante room, followed in their wake.