I caught a glimpse of Mr. Hoff's face
when he came back from around that corner. It was all convulsed with
hate, the most terrible expression I ever saw. I'm almost certain he
murdered that man. I'm sure it wasn't a suicide."
"I'm sure, too, that it was no suicide," said Mr. Fleck gravely. "The
man who was found there was one of my men, K-19, the man whose badge I
have just given you. He had been detailed to shadow the Hoffs."
CHAPTER IV
THE CLUE IN THE BOOK
Subway passengers sitting opposite Jane Strong as she rode up-town from
Mr. Fleck's office, if they observed her at all--and most of them
did--saw only a slim, good-looking young girl, dressed in a chic
tailormade suit, crowned with a dashing Paris hat tilted at the proper
angle to display best the sheen of her black, black hair, which after
the prevailing fashion was pulled forward becomingly over her ears.
Outwardly Jane was unchanged, but within her nerves were all atingle at
the thought of the tremendous and fascinating responsibility so
unexpectedly thrust upon her. Her mind, too, was aflame with patriotic
ardor, but coupled with these new sensations was a persisting sense of
dread, an intangible, unforgettable feeling of horror that kept cropping
up every time her fingers touched the little metal disk in her purse.
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