The Black Hush

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THE spacious lobby of the Olympia Hotel presented an interesting study to the man who viewed it from a corner chair. No longer a pretentious establishment, the old hotel at least gained its share of patronage.

Nearly all of the chairs and lounge seats were filled, and many persons were strolling back and forth near the desk.

The man who was watching from the corner had chosen a spot which was quite inconspicuous.

Hunched in the chair, watching from a gloomy spot, Detective Joe Cardona was effectively avoiding recognition, and at the same time taking good measures to spot anyone whose features he might know.

The ace of New York sleuths was living up to his reputation.

Cardona’s watchful eyes picked out a small group of men who entered through a revolving door. The detective’s quick glance settled upon one individual — a heavy-built man of more than average height, whose chief item of attire was an expensive astrakhan coat. As this arrival strode across the lobby, he half turned his head in Cardona’s direction. Grinning at a companion’s remark, the man displayed a glimmer of gold in his thick-lipped mouth.

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