Читать книгу Hidden Foes; Or, A Fatal Miscalculation онлайн

9 страница из 49

“I see the point,” Gleason nodded. “I agree with you, too.”

“The fact has not been disclosed, I understand.”

“Only to a few members of the force, Carter; all of whom were ordered to say nothing about it. They may be trusted.”

“Very good! If there should be occasion to introduce me to others, then, present me as Mr. Blaisdell,” Carter directed. “That is the name under which I am registered at the Wilton House.”

“Blaisdell—I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Come on, then,” the detective added. “We are none too soon. A crowd is beginning to gather.”

Their remarks had been made while they were entering the building. A group of men had collected at the top of the stairs. They were restrained by a policeman who had been called in from the street, and a passageway was hurriedly made for Chief Gleason and his companion. That the latter was the famous New York detective, not even the policeman then suspected.

The scene in the second-floor corridor was about what Nick Carter anticipated. Half a score of men and women had come from the adjoining rooms and offices and were gazing with mingled awe and consternation at the lifeless man on the floor. He was lying where he had fallen. A physician had been hurriedly summoned and was bending over him, engaged in making a superficial examination.