His work was finished. Loy Rook had said nothing about closing the bookcase. Harry listened in darkness. Fifteen minutes later, he heard stealthy footsteps descending stairs. Luke Froy was leaving.
Harry stared from the dark window. He fancied he saw a dim form in the back street. He followed its course, and distinctly observed a man of Luke Froy’s height appear at the corner. Harry still watched.
He thought he saw a patch of darkness flit along the sidewalk. That was all. It was enough. Harry Vincent knew that The Shadow was on the trail of Luke Froy!
CHAPTER XVI. TWO MEN TRAPPED
SNEAKS RUBIN was obeying his master’s instructions. He had become conspicuous in the underworld. Sneaks was a well-known character, but he usually kept to himself. Now he was traveling the rounds.
He cronied with gangsters whom he had known and chatted with them in places where he might be overheard. His conversation dwelt on a particular subject. Who had last seen Clipper Tobin before he was bumped off?
Sneaks was keenly observant. All the time that he was apparently concerned in talk, he was watching.
This was the third night that he had been thus engaged, for he had started on his campaign immediately after his orders were received from Double Z.
It was in a dilapidated dive called the Green Mouse that Sneaks gained his hoped for results. While he was talking to a second-rate gunman, he noted a motion on the part of a man near by. Sneaks watched from the corner of his eye. Instead of turning toward him, the man turned away.
That might have been disarming, but for one fact. Sneaks Rubin had only seen the back of the man whom he had stunned in Bodine’s apartment. Now Sneaks recognized the same back at the near-by table! He had found his quarry!
Sneaks immediately became confidential in his tone, but he talked loud enough to his companion, so that the listening man might hear.
“Listen, Bud,” he said. “I’d like to find a torpedo as good as Clipper was. He was my — well, Clipper was a one-man mob in himself. I’m the guy that called him that—”
Cliff Marsland, listening, was elated. Sneaks had used the very term that he had heard Clipper use. The dead gangster had prided himself on being a “one-man mob.” Without doubt, Sneaks Rubin was the man who had arranged for Clipper Tobin to kill Arnold Bodine.
Sneaks was known to Cliff, although it was doubtful that the crafty little gangster knew Cliff by sight. The reason was plain. Sneaks was a character in the bad lands. Cliff was just a name.
Due to his long absence, Cliff was seldom recognized. Nevertheless, he decided to take no chances. He remained in his position, head turned away, until he saw Sneaks shamble from the place.
Cliff followed. He was cautious in his actions. He wanted to find out all he could by watching Sneaks.
Afterward, he could inquire regarding the pasty-faced crook whose name was so appropriate.
Now, Sneaks was bound for a definite destination, hopeful that Cliff would follow. He was going to confer with Double Z. Why not? In the back room of the dive he would be safe from observation. The action would mystify Cliff Marsland, and make him all the more willing to follow.
By a strange coincidence, it was the very time that Sneaks might expect a call from his mysterious chief.
Instructions, furthermore, would be valuable.
Sneaks had another purpose. When he shambled into his favorite hangout, he made a sign to a man who was lounging there. This sign was a familiar one at that place. It meant, “I’m being trailed. Watch who comes in!”
Then Sneaks entered the little back room, barred the door, and waited.
His call came, promptly at the appointed minute. One ring — if not answered, the phone would be hung up at the other end. Sneaks snatched up the receiver. He spoke hastily as he recognized the voice.
“The guy’s on my trail,” he said.
“Do you know who he is?” asked Double Z’s voice.
“No. I can find out—”
“Take him down to Loy Rook’s. Right away. That is most important.”
SNEAKS left the room. He saw a man sitting in the corner. The tip-off made a sign. Sneaks threw a sidelong glance and recognized Cliff’s appearance. He began to act furtively. He slipped out into the night.
His part was well played. Within two minutes, Cliff Marsland had left the dive and was scanning the sidewalks for the little gangster. He saw the stooping form of Sneaks Rubin in the distance.
Sneaks wandered cunningly. He gave no sign that he was being followed. He strode along through side streets, with the air of a man who has a definite objective. Cliff kept up the pursuit. It was not long before they reached the vicinity of the building where Loy Rook lived.
But on his journey, Sneaks had passed a lookout post where one of Jake Dermott’s vigilant men was always on watch. There, Sneaks had paused.
Standing in the light, the man had recognized him. So while Sneaks, slowly lessening his pace, reached Loy Rook’s neighborhood, the word had already reached Jake Dermott.
Sneaks turned into a back street. Here, on the fringe of Chinatown, Cliff Marsland was wondering. He knew that Harry Vincent was stationed at Loy Rook’s. Could that be where they were going?
The Shadow’s agents were kept well posted through the medium of Rutledge Mann. It was unlikely that Harry would expect Cliff; but Harry was always alert. Much might be gained tonight.
Cliff hoped that Sneaks would linger along the way, so that Cliff would have a chance to notify Burbank, The Shadow’s night sentinel. But had Cliff known where the trail might lead, he would have sent word before he had followed Sneaks into the second dive. It was too late now.
Sneaks stopped in a dark, narrow street. Cliff waited out of sight, behind a stack of barrels. He saw the little gangster make a motion beside a door. Then Sneaks disappeared.
Cliff advanced cautiously. He came to an open door, with a flight of steps ahead. He noted that the door was cleverly built so as to seem almost part of the wall.
Cliff hesitated. Should he leave temporary and call Burbank? He decided to go in. It was well that he did so, for unbeknown to him, the ends of the little street were already watched by Jake Dermott’s sentinels, ready to cut off his retreat!
CLIFF ascended the steps, automatic in his hand. He came to a hallway on the second floor. He stood there, in semidarkness. The only light came from a window at the end of the hall.
Cliff noted that he stood between two objects that looked like doors. A quick inspection proved that they were hinged bookcases. Cliff stepped forward in the dim light. He started quickly as he heard a low whisper.
“Cliff!”
His own name!
“Yes!” he whispered tensely.
“This is Harry — Harry Vincent.”
“Good. Is this Loy Rook’s?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trailing Sneaks Rubin.”
“A man just went upstairs.”
“I’m following, then!”
Cliff Marsland moved cautiously toward the third floor. Harry, in turn, slipped down the hallway. Silently, in the dark, he reached the office and dialed the telephone. Burbank responded. Harry quickly told him what was taking place.
During his residence with Loy Rook, Harry had made as many observations as possible. He knew that The Shadow was familiar with the situation here. Harry could see no danger to himself. He felt that he should forestall any possible trouble for Cliff Marsland.
The game was important. Still, it was Harry’s part to be cautious. He knew that Cliff could not possibly have notified Burbank of his whereabouts, so he had attended to that matter himself.
The hallway was empty when Harry reached his room. The bookcases were still open. That was a good sign.
With door ajar, Harry remained watchful within his room. His pocketed automatic was ready to be unlimbered at an instant’s notice.