The Death Giver

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“EXTRY! Extry! Anudder moider on de Suboiban!”

The New York newsboys wigwagged a large-headlined journal in front of a stocky, swarthy-visaged man, who was walking hastily along the street. The man pushed the newspaper aside and growled aloud as he turned his steps into one of Manhattan’s downtown canyons.

“Extry! Extry!”

All along his route, the swarthy man had been hounded by that cry. A product of sensational journalism that knew how to awaken public interest, the story dominated the front page, and brought inspiration to every hawker who peddled evening newspapers.

“Second moider on de Suboiban!”

The walking man restrained himself with difficulty. He glowered toward the leather-lunged youth who had shouted this new cry to the swarthy man, these were words of derision directed at himself. They were utterances that foretold a stormy event in store for him.

There was a reason.

The swarthy man was none other than Joe Cardona, ace detective on the New York force; and this afternoon Joe was on his way to an interview with Police Commissioner Ralph Weston, regarding this very case.

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