band of international crooks. But”—the speaker shrugged his shoulders—“Rodriguez Zelva could afford
to do it for ten million dollars. Eh?”
Pete Ballou was nodding in commendation. This was typical of Zelva. He was always playing ahead of
the game, moving his underlings like pawns on a chessboard, keeping himself from the limelight. Never
yet had Zelva been forced to come out into the open. Now, however, such an action would be worth the
stake.
“Ten million dollars,” remarked Zelva, his black eyes shining with the thought of the sum. “I shall have it,
Ballou—and you will profit because you have helped me. I have many things to do—but why should I
bother further? Once I am gone away from here—from this country—”
He leered as he stared at Pete Ballou.
“It is all ready,” added Zelva. “I have been waiting for something big like this. Why do you think I have
kept secret ownership of those liquor boats that come up from Mexico? The ones that Salati arranged
for? Just to send in bottles so that people here in New York could make a profit? No”—Zelva's eyes
gleamed—“there have been other reasons.
“A way that comes in is a way that goes out. Through those who have met the little boats from the rum
ships, you have gained the help of Silk Dowdy and those other men who are watching Legira. When the
money is ours, it shall go out as the liquor has come in.
“I have not told you this before, Ballou. I am telling you now, because I think that it is important. We
soon shall have the money.”
“You think that Legira—”
“I think that Legira will do all to get that money to-morrow. If he fails, I shall work swiftly when I deal
with those men in Santander. I can win their confidence—so quick that all will be very easy.
“So watch, Ballou. Stay at your hotel and have your men report. Have them ready for your word. If
Legira should manage to get the money, it must be taken from him. If he should not so manage, you must
strike at midnight. My threats will never fail!”
Pete Ballou rubbed his hands enthusiastically. Zelva looked at him with a smile. The scheming South
American was pleased at his own craftiness. He was also smiling at Ballou's simplicity.
There were other factors that Zelva had considered but had not mentioned. False implication of Legira in
the death of Hendrix might cause complications. Pete Ballou, at large, was a menace. That was another
important reason why Zelva planned prompt action.
He could not afford to have Ballou, the actual murderer, continuing the work of watching Legira's home.
But Zelva, crafty leader of crooks of many nationalities, was too wise to put pessimistic thoughts into the
mind of Pete Ballou.
“You must go now,” declared Zelva. “Be careful when you leave. Do not come here again.”
He paused and stared at the floor beside the window. A shadowy blot was swaying on the floor. It
seemed to glide away as Zelva watched it.
The chunky South American looked quickly toward the window. He was too late to spy the form that
had risen and swung over the edge of the rail outside. Zelva strode to the balcony. He looked below at
the projection two floors beneath. He saw nothing except blackness. He lingered; then returned to the
room.
IMMEDIATELY after Zelva's departure from the rail, the blackness on the balcony beneath became a
living mass. The window of the room below rose silently, then closed. The Shadow had made a quick
