Gray Fist

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“HELLO… Hello… Detective headquarters?”

A gray-haired man was asking the question as he spoke into the mouthpiece of a telephone. A look of relief appeared upon his strained lips as he received an affirmative answer.

“To whom am I speaking?” he inquired, in an even tone. “Ah! Detective Cardona… Very good; you are the man I wanted. My name is Varden… Yes, Worth Varden, the importer… Here, at my home.”

The gray-haired man paused. His face became tense. His voice lowered as he again took up the conversation.

“It is important that I see you, Cardona,” declared Varden. “Highly important… To-night… That is why I called again to learn if you had returned. I was afraid that you had not received my message this afternoon…

“I can’t talk now — not until I see you… Yes, I shall be here. Come to the side door of my home. Bring men with you. There is danger… Myself? Certainly, I am in danger. I shall leave here with you, after you arrive…”

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