Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/129



was twelve minutes later that Kestner stepped from his taxi-cab in front of the Union Club, paid his driver, and effected a careful scrutiny of Fifty-first Street before passing in through the ponderous doors of the Club itself.

His visit within those doors, however, was a brief one. Having made reasonably sure that he was not shadowed, he crossed Fifth Avenue and made his way westward along Fifty-first Street, facing the steady downpour which still deluged the city.

Then he went quietly up a wide flight of brownstone house-steps, as quietly inserting in the door lock one of the keys which he had taken from Lambert's pocket.

He opened the door without appreciable sound, sidling quickly in and as quickly closing the heavy door behind him.

Then he stood motionless in the unlighted entrance hall, with every sense alert, silently appraising the situation which lay before him.

He knew that he was on delicate ground, with a delicate task ahead of him. And he did not care to make a mis-step.

He stood there with ears strained, peering through the unbroken gloom. At one moment he thought he heard a sound somewhere in the undecipherable depths of the house. But he could not be sure of this. Yet