'Sure. I've been keeping out of town, you know. I'll chance a call — if I don't get an answer, I'll wait — but
I'll stick in the little room.'
WHEN he concluded, Larry Ricordo went to the door that Red Mike had indicated. Both Cliff Marsland
and Gawky Tyson were intensely interested. They were anxious to learn the number that Ricordo was
calling. The closed door prevented them. But it was not long before that door, which had a habit of not
staying completely closed, opened inward, as though by accident.
Ricordo was talking, and the tones of his voice were audible to both listeners. As successor of Slips
Harbeck, the gang leader was apparently receiving important instructions.
'Thomas Jocelyn?' Ricordo's tone denoted surprise. 'Sure… I'll go there… Afraid he'll squawk, eh? Well,
he knows too much… Sure… I know where old Jocelyn's apartment is… Leave it to me… Easy. I'll go
there right away. I can make it in half an hour…'
The receiver clanked. Larry Ricordo stalked from the inner room. The expression on his face was plain.
One could see that it boded ill for Thomas Jocelyn. Larry Ricordo stopped in the outer room.
'I'll have that drink, Mike,' he said to the proprietor. 'Then I'll start along. Thanks for letting me use the
phone.'
While Ricordo's back was turned, Cliff Marsland arose quietly from his table. The Shadow's agent had
shifted before. He was apparently seeking a new place. Instead, he changed his mind and sauntered
toward the door of the speakeasy.
Cliff had just reached the door when Gawky Tyson hunched himself upward and began a furtive progress
in the same direction. He had not gone three paces before one of the gorillas leaped to his feet. At that
moment, Larry Ricordo was finishing his drink.
'Well, so long, Mike,' said the gang leader.
A cry sounded through the speakeasy. It was directed toward Gawky Tyson, by the gangster who had
leaped forward to block the stool pigeon's path.
'Get this guy!' shouted the gorilla. 'He's a stool; that's what he is! Get the squawker!'
From the door, Cliff Marsland caught the flash of revolvers. He also saw Larry Ricordo approaching the
door. As the gang leader stopped to view the action, Cliff ducked out into the night. Larry Ricordo,
looking over his shoulder as he went, reached the door.
Gawky Tyson was screaming denials. Like a frightened rat, he was squirming away from the mobsman
who had accosted him. The other gorillas were on their feet, covering the suspect with their revolvers.
Red Mike was bellowing out threats. He wanted no disturbance in this place.
Other customers were on their feet. None were friends of Gawky Tyson, but they all knew Red Mike.
Larry Ricordo watched grimly, knowing that his men must not delay. They could act now and explain
afterward.
Two revolvers roared. Other shots followed. With almost one accord, the gorillas loosed their lead into
the form of Gawky Tyson. The stool pigeon uttered a piercing shriek and toppled to the floor.
Red Mike, with clenched fists, was trying to put the blame on the proper man. But the gorillas had acted
with the precision of a firing squad. Backing away, they held their revolvers in menacing hands, as though
challenging any one who might call them to task.
LARRY RICORDO stepped through the door. He walked away, glancing back as he went. He saw the
murderers come hurrying from the speakeasy. Their work was done. Larry laughed as he sauntered
along and ducked through a side alley.
These men were half of his corps. The others had remained outside. They had gone; and Larry knew
where. They had taken up the trail of Cliff Marsland.
Hurrying his pace, Ricordo kept on for several blocks and finally stopped at a little restaurant. He
entered, went through to a back room and picked up a telephone. He called the number of Thomas
Jocelyn. He recognized the voice that came over the wire.
'Hello, Grewson,' said Ricordo. 'All set? Good… Listen now. You've got the bottles… Do the job
right… No, I'm not coming there, but there's a guy that thinks I am… He'll be there later. You're to be
gone when he gets there… Well — fifteen minutes will be all right; but move in a hurry after that… Yes…
Yes… Scram; keep going clear out of town… You've got the dough I slipped you. There'll be more
waiting when you reach Chicago…'
Larry Ricordo left the restaurant. He laughed in a pleased manner. It rested with Grewson now; and
Grewson was capable. Furthermore, Grewson did not know that The Shadow was concerned in this
episode.
As for Thomas Jocelyn's apartment — Larry Ricordo had no reason for going there now. That was part of
Professor Urlich's scheme. A new trail for The Shadow; another duty for Ricordo. Half a dozen blocks
to go; and Larry would learn if the rest of his plot had succeeded.
The gang leader neared the appointed spot. He was back in a secluded district of the underworld, far
from Red Mike's establishment. A man came out of the darkness to meet him. It was one of the gorillas
who had been set to trail Cliff Marsland.
'We got him, Larry,' whispered the gangster. 'Laid outside the place where he was phoning and nabbed
him when he came out. Knocked him cold.'
'Is he in the car now?'
Larry put the question as they stalked along. He saw the gangster nod.
'Yeah,' said the underling. 'Him and another guy. This bird jumped us while we were grabbin' Marsland.
One of the gang socked him with a rod.'
'Who is he?' demanded Ricordo.
'Some reporter,' explained the gangster. 'Found his cards in his pocket. Name's Burke — Clyde Burke.
We didn't want to bump him off because the noise might have made trouble. We can drop him
somewhere or take him for a ride — '
They were at the spot where the car was parked. Three mobsters emerged from the side of an old
sedan. Larry Ricordo used a flashlight to study the two men who were bound and gagged in the back
seat. He recognized Cliff Marsland. He did not know the other.
THE gang leader pondered. He wondered if this reporter was an acquaintance of Cliff Marsland or
whether the man had chanced to happen by during the attack of the gorillas. Ricordo knew that it would
be a mistake to deal with a newspaperman as one would handle a member of the underworld.
To take Clyde Burke for a one-way ride was the first suggestion that Ricordo ignored. He considered
the results that might occur should Burke be freed. They looked bad also. Ricordo wondered what
Professor Urlich would have to say about the capture of two men instead of one.
That thought gave the answer. There was no time to lose. The sooner Ricordo reached Long Island, the
better. The quickest, surest course was to take Burke along with Marsland. Professor Urlich could
decide what to do.
Larry Ricordo paid off his mobsters. He took the wheel of the sedan and pulled away. As he rode along,
he was more than satisfied with his decision regarding Clyde Burke. It was no greater risk to carry two
bound men than one. Burke could be freed if Urlich insisted; if the scientist decreed death, it would be
more certain and effective in Urlich's laboratory than at the hands of the cumbersome mobsters whom
Ricordo had just discharged.
The gang leader had a hunch that both prisoners would soon experience the sensation of silent death. The
thought turned his mind to The Shadow. Larry Ricordo laughed as he guided the car toward the twinkling
