"By God!" he muttered, "I'll have to see this thing a little further."
Wheeling suddenly, he walked to a telephone booth, called a number and
waited impatiently several moments before he said in intense subdued
tones: "Is this Carlton's Cafe? Give me Jackson, the head-waiter.
Jackson, is Mr. Cavendish--John Cavendish--there? Good! Call him to
the phone will you, Jackson? It's important."
CHAPTER II: THE BODY ON THE FLOOR
The early light of dawn stealing in faintly through the spider-web of
the fire-escape ladder, found a partially open window on the third
floor of the Waldron apartments, and began slowly to brighten the walls
of the room within. There were no curtains on this window as upon the
others, and the growing radiance streamed in revealing the whole
interior. It was a large apartment, furnished soberly and in excellent
taste as either lounging-room or library, the carpet a dark green, the
walls delicately tinted, bearing a few rare prints rather sombrely
framed, and containing a few upholstered chairs; a massive sofa, and a
library table bearing upon it a stack of magazines.
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