The only discussion of importance between them was the matter of Devaux's interest in uncut diamonds.
Milbrook did not seem inclined to give much information on this subject, and Carleton did not press him.
Carleton alighted from the cab at the hotel where Milbrook lived. He said good night to his companion, and strolled toward Broadway.
He walked up the bright thoroughfare and turned into a side street, where he entered the lobby of the Gargantuan Hotel. Here he ascended to the twentieth floor, and approached a door at the end of a corridor. Taking a key from his pocket, Carleton knocked, thus causing a resonant sound.
THE door opened, and the young society man entered to join Gats Hackett and Felix Zubian. The pair were evidently expecting his arrival. Carleton helped himself to a drink which Gats supplied. Then he dropped into a chair and looked questioningly toward his companions.
'Did you read the newspapers?' he asked.
Gats joined Zubian in a nod.
'Nice wind-up to last night's doings,' vouchsafed Carleton.
'It shows us where we stand,' observed Zubian.
'It means we've got to get The Shadow,' growled Gats. 'He's a mean baby. We had things fixed right—and he made a get-away. I've never seen a guy so lucky.'
'Lucky?' questioned Zubian, in his suave manner. 'Just what do you mean by luck?'
Gats offered no reply.
'The Shadow is dangerous,' declared Zubian. 'That is quite apparent. Last night's episode is valuable. It shows that he cannot be overcome by ordinary methods. He has luck, as you term it, Gats. I call it strategy. To overcome strategy, one must meet it with strategy.'
'Yeah?' quizzed Carleton. 'How?'
'We must trust our own efforts—not those of others. The Shadow is undoubtedly a menace. Let us consider last night as a test. Zipper Marsh was not equipped to meet The Shadow. We may be, if we prepare.'
'Well, we've put him wise -'
'We have not,' interrupted Zubian quietly. 'He has learned nothing except that some one was behind the note from Dobie Wentz. He will attribute that note to gangsters opposed to Zipper Marsh—not to your crowd, Gats.'
'Maybe you've figured it right,' retorted the gang leader, 'but what are we going to do about it?'
'Find out who The Shadow is, to begin with,' suggested Zubian.
Gats Hackett snorted his disdain.
'Guess you think that's easy,' he growled. 'Well, you'd better guess again, Zubian. There's been plenty of smart blokes trying to spot The Shadow. They've never got anywhere.
'Take it right now—Squint Freston is trying to spot him. How far has he got? Squint's the smartest spotter in New York—and what's more, he's got a head-start, trailing The Shadow's stools—Vincent and Mann.'
'Yet The Shadow still eludes him.'
'Right. You can't get The Shadow by laying low. He's wise to that sort of stuff.'
Silence fell over the trio. Then Douglas Carleton aroused himself from his lethargy and asserted his authority.
'We've got to get The Shadow,' he announced. 'If you fellows can't do it, we'll find some one who can.
There's too much at stake to let The Shadow step in and queer it.
'I have plenty of work for both of you to do—soon. In the meantime, let's clear the way. You had your chance, Gats; but you fell short. What are you going to do about it?'
GATS HACKETT glowered. He walked over to the table to take a drink of liquor. He paused suddenly, and laid down his glass. His glower changed to an evil leer.
'What am I going to do about it?' he demanded. 'I'll tell you what I'm going to do about it! I'll tell you how to get The Shadow.'
He studied the questioning gazes of the other two; then continued with his formulating plan.
'I got somewhere, didn't I?' he inquired. 'I got a message to The Shadow, didn't I? He was too smart—or too dumb—I don't know which - to wait until two thirty. He must have got into Grayson's place ahead of Zipper Marsh. That gave him a chance to shoot his way out. But I'll get him in a place where he can't get out. I'll tell you how, too!'
Gats swallowed his drink, placed the glass on the table, and walked forward to speak in an impressive tone.
'How about those two birds that work for shim?' he demanded. 'How about them, eh? Vincent and Mann—a couple of dummies is the way I figure them. All right; we'll grab them off and make them squawk. They'll tell us who The Shadow is!'
'Perhaps,' interposed Zubian dryly. 'Perhaps they will tell—if they know.'
'If they know!' snorted Gats. 'I'll make them know! I'm not called Gats for nothing. Besides that'—his face wore a malicious scowl— 'I've got a few things I can use as well as my smoke wagons. I've given you the lay. Grab off Mann and Vincent. That's the ticket.'
'It might work,' declared Carleton.
'It will work,' asserted Gats. 'If those stools don't squawk, I'll hang onto them. Let The Shadow wonder where they are. That'll make him hustle. When he begins to step, like he did last night, we've got a chance to nab him in the open. Maybe we won't slip the next time!'
'What do you think about it?' inquired Carleton, turning to Zubian.
The international crook was thoughtful. His firm brow furrowed. At last, he voiced his opinion in a voice that carried careful decision.
'It is a good idea,' he said approvingly, 'but we must hold it until later on. It would be well, first, to learn all we can about The Shadow. There are ways of doing that—ways that we have not yet tried.'
'What are they?' asked Carleton.
'I shall state them later,' said Zubian. 'I must give the matter careful thought. It is for your benefit, Gats'— he spoke reassuringly as he turned to the gang leader—'because it will put you in a position to ask pointed questions if Mann and Vincent come within your power.
'The Shadow is wily. We must meet him on his own ground. Strategy and secrecy. Those are our best weapons. Suppose'—Zubian turned to Carleton— 'that I meet you at your club to-morrow night. Then I shall tell you more.'
'At the Cobalt Club?' asked Carleton.
'That is the place,' said Zubian. 'I shall meet you there at half past ten, to-morrow.'
FELIX ZUBIAN arose with the air of a man who had accomplished much. Gats Hackett stared sullenly.
Then his expression changed. In spite of himself, Gats was impressed by Zubian's manner. Still, he could not resist voicing an opinion.
'Find out who The Shadow is!' he sneered. 'I'd like to see some one do it! Squint Freston is on the job.
He hasn't got anywhere yet. There's no one in New York who can touch Squint -'
'I must disagree with you,' interrupted Zubian coldly. He faced Gats Hackett, and leaned heavily upon his ornamental cane. 'We discussed that matter the other night, my friend. I told you then that I knew of one man who would prove superior to Squint Freston. I also informed you that the man of whom I spoke was in New York. He is the man upon whom we shall rely.'
'Better than Squint, eh?' jeered Gats. 'You think this gazebo can find The Shadow and learn who he is?
Why do you figure he can do it if Squint can't?'
'Squint Freston is a gangster,' responded Zubian calmly. 'The man whom I have in mind is a gentleman.
Where Squint is crude, this man is subtle. That constitutes a vast difference between the two.'
'Yeah?' queried Gats. 'Well, I'd like to see the guy! I'd like to know who he is! How about you'—he turned to Carleton—'you'd like to know who this smart bird is, wouldn't you?'
'Yes,' admitted Carleton, 'I should. When can I meet him, Zubian?'
