He turned back from the open window. His eye traveled beyond Helen's trim figure down the empty hall. "Wait right here, Jack," he shot over his shoulder, and rushed along the hall and down the stairway before either the young man or his sister could recover from their astonishment. CHAPTER XX THE PLAGUE OF COLD Without pause, and three steps at a time, Darrow ran down three flights of stairs. Then, recovering from his initial excitement somewhat, he caught the elevator and shot to the street. There he walked rapidly to the subway, which he took as far as City Hall Square. On emerging from the subway station he started across for the _Despatch_ office as fast as he could walk. By the entrance to the City Hall, however, he came to an abrupt halt. From the open doorway rushed his friend, Officer Burns, of the City Hall Station. The policeman's face was chalky white; his eyes were staring, his cap was over one side, he staggered uncertainly. As he caught sight of Darrow he stumbled to the young man and clung to his neck, muttering incoherently. People passing in and out looked at him curiously and smiled. "My God!" gasped Burns, his eyes roving. "I says to him, 'Mike, I don't wonder you've got cold feet.' And there he was, and the mayor--Heaven save--and his secretary! My God!" Darrow shook his shoulder. "Here," he said decisively, "what are you talking about? Get yourself together! Remember you're an officer; don't lose your nerve this way!" At the touch to his pride Burns did pull himself together somewhat, but went on under evident strong excitement. "I went in just now to the mayor's office a minute," said he, "and saw my friend Mike Mallory, the doorkeeper, settin' in his chair, as usual. It was cold-like, and I went up to him and says, 'Mike, no wonder you get cold feet down here,' just by way of a joke; and when he didn't answer, I went up to him, and he was dead, there in his chair!" "Well, you've seen dead men before. There's no occasion to lose your nerve, even if you did know him," said Darrow. The brutality of the speech had its intended effect. Burns straightened. "That's all very well," said he more collectively. "_But the man was froze_!" "Frozen!" muttered Darrow, and whistled. "Yes, and what's more, his little dog, setting by the chair, was froze, too; so when I stepped back sudden and hit against him, he tumbled over _bang_, like a cast-iron dog! That got my goat! I ran!" "Come with me," ordered Darrow decisively.