“No,” said the Skull. “Hereafter you must learn that it is unwise to ask questions here. You will be told all you need to know. In this case, however, I was going to make an announcement to the other men after you left, so I will tell you now that I am sending Frisch on another mission of much more importance than yours.”
He stopped a moment while Gilly fidgeted, and “X” waited impassively. “There is one obstacle in the path of my plans for the future. Nate Frisch and the others are going out to take steps to remove that obstacle. That is all I will tell you now. By the time Gilly and you return, I will be able to announce the successful completion of their mission, and to outline our future operations — which, by the way, will net us millions of dollars in profit and startle the city by its ingenuity!”
He raised his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Go now. Get your tools. Then go to 363 Willow Street. The rear door will be unlocked, the house empty. Bring back the pearls. And remember, Fannon, I will accept no excuses, no excuses whatsoever! Failure is punished here severely, as you may guess. And nobody is allowed a second chance!”
THE door swung open, and “X” and Gilly passed out. From within, the Skull called out, “Nate Frisch! Bring those other men in!”
“X” and the little gunman watched them file into the darkened room. The Secret Agent wondered what mission they were being sent on. From what the Skull had said, it was one of paramount importance. The door without the handle started to swing shut. The Skull’s voice came to them sepulchrally from the inner room. “Wait there, Fannon and Gilly, until Binks comes. He has his orders to lead you out, and will await your return.”
The door clicked shut.
Gilly sprawled in a chair, lit a cigarette, and regarded “X” with narrow, sharp eyes. “I hope you don’t try no tricks on this trip, Fannon. I’d hate to have to burn you down. You’re a pretty smart guy, an’ if you’re on the square we’ll get along fine.”
“Have you ever wondered,” the Secret Agent asked him, “who the Skull really is?”
Gilly shrugged. “Nope. I ain’t interested as long as he takes care o’ us, an’ fixes the jobs so they’re easy to pull. An’ don’t forget, it ain’t healthy to wonder about things like that in here.”
It was twenty minutes before Binks came in. He shuffled through the doorway from the corridor, still with that nasty leer on his face. Out of one pocket of his voluminous coat he produced a thirty-eight automatic, which he handed to Gilly together with a half dozen extra clips of ammunition.
“The Skull said to give you these.”
Gilly took them, pocketed the clips, but fondled the automatic lovingly before putting it away. “X” could discern the killer’s lust in his eyes.
“X” said to Binks, “How about me — don’t I get a gun, too?”
Binks cackled harshly. “Not much, you don’t! The Skull never trusts a new man with a gun till he’s done at least one job. Gilly’ll do all the shootin’ you’ll need on this trip!”
Chapter VII
FROM one of his other pockets Binks produced two burlap hoods. Gilly seemed to know what they were for, for he took one and slipped it over his head. There was a slip knot at the bottom around his neck, which Binks tightened and knotted. Then he motioned to “X” to do the same.
“X” put the other hood on, felt Binks’ finger jerking the cord tight. He could see nothing. The hood was a perfect blindfold. He felt Binks’ fingers tying the knot, then heard Binks say:
“Here, take hold of Gilly’s hand. I’ll lead Gilly. Don’t let go, ’cause if you ever get lost in these here passages you might easy get killed. The Skull’s put lots o’ traps around in here since last night.”
Thus, hand in hand, they traversed an almost interminable series of passages, waiting while the halfwit manipulated sliding panels, opened hidden doors. The Secret Agent tried to memorize the many twists and turns they took, but after a while even his keen mind gave it up. The Skull had planned too well.
Once they went up in an elevator, and “X” estimated that it must have been four flights before they stopped. Once more they proceeded, with the hoods still on their heads. Now “X” sensed that they were passing through a series of rooms. His sharply attuned senses told him that these must be empty rooms, probably in some deserted building. The musty odor that pervaded here registered through his olfactory nerves in spite of the burlap hood.
They descended a creaking wooden staircase, crossed a bare wooden floor, and went down another set of stairs. Now they were in a cellar, “X” could tell. Once more they entered a series of passages. “X” judged that they must have come at least a half mile. He wondered at the thoroughness of the Skull in preparing this complicated means of egress, only to be further astonished when Binks drew back from up ahead.
“This is exit number three. When you come back we’ll use another way.”
“Number three!” he exclaimed. “How many are there?”
Binks chuckled. “That’d be tellin’. All I can say is, they’s more’n six; that is, that I know of. Then maybe they’s a couple the Skull ain’t told me about.”
At last they came to the end of the journey. They walked through a door that Binks held open for them, and “X” smelled fresh air. Binks said, “Now, let go hands. I’m gonna whirl you around.” He took hold of “X”, turned him around six or seven times, then said, “All right, you can take the hood off.”
“X” fumbled with the string, got it off just as Binks was through doing the same for Gilly. Gilly took off his hood, blinked, and said, “Jeez! I never come out this way before!”
They were in a narrow alley between two large apartment houses. Each house had a service entrance on the alley, and “X” saw why Binks had whirled them around. The idea was to prevent their telling from which house they had come.
“All right, boys,” Binks told them. “Go ahead an’ do yore job. When yore through, you come to number 18 Slocum Street. That’s a apartment house. You go through to the rear, an’ you’ll find a door in the fence. I’ll be on the other side o’ that door.”
“Okay,” said “X”. “I’ll remember the address—18 Slocum Street.”
“What time’ll you boys be done?”
“I don’t know. I have to go to Chinatown and get my tools first. What time is it now?”
Gilly consulted a wrist watch. “Eleven.”
“X” figured quickly. “I can’t see my Chinese friend till noon. It’ll take him about an hour to get the kit for me. Then the job itself shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Make it three o’clock.”
Binks nodded. “Three o’clock is right. The other boys with Nate Frisch’ll be back by one, an’ that’ll give me time to meet you. The Skull told me to tell you that the back door of that guy’s house that you’re goin’ to is gonna be left open. He arranged it.”
“He sure does things thoroughly,” the Secret Agent remarked.
“I’ll say he does,” Gilly chimed in.
The two of them went out of the alley, leaving Binks behind. When “X” turned back at the mouth of the alley, the halfwit had already disappeared. There was no telling which of the two houses he had gone into. “X” gave up the idea of tricking Gilly, trussing him up and going back to trace his way into the Skull’s headquarters. The Skull had taken too many precautions for that. The only other course open was to perform the job he had been assigned, and try to get into the good graces of the master criminal, try to discover enough about him to break up the gang.
THEY found themselves on a side street less than two blocks from the Bankers’ Club. As they walked past it, “X” looked into the broad windows, saw Jonathan Jewett, the dyspeptic old insurance president, talking to Laurens, the jeweler, in a pair of easy chairs overlooking the street. He played with the thought of how they would react if they suddenly learned that one of the two men slinking along outside was Elisha Pond, their fellow club member.