"You'd have seen me get out, if you'd stuck around," said The Shadow. "Instead, you lammed, leaving me in a tough spot!"
"I thought you'd took a dive," apologized Quill. "Like the rest of 'em."
"The floor didn't cave where I was. But I had to punch through a wall and a window, before the whole works went."
Quill recalled that Pike had been in the big room when the crash came.
"The Shadow got his!" gloated the pretended Pike. "Too bad Bosco went with him. He and me was pals.
What he'd do for you, you can count on me doing, Quill."
"I'll use you," Quill told The Shadow. "Only, there ain't much to do, with The Shadow done for."
"What about them stooges of his - that guy Vincent and the moll? Ain't you going to put the heat on them?"
Quill came up from the soap box. He snapped his fingers in a gesture of annoyance.
"What?" he exclaimed. "We figured Vincent was just some dumb dick. It's too late for the heat. We gave
'em the gas pipe. We shipped the dame back to the joint where she was staying. Then we found out that Vincent lived at the Hotel Metrolite, so we lugged him to his room.
For a few moments, Quill glared, his mind imbued with regret at the lost opportunity. Quill would have liked to put the heat on anyone who served The Shadow. Then his lips writhed into a grin.
"What's the diff?" he asked. "The stooge couldn't have squawked much; neither could the moll. They've got what was coming to 'em, and it makes everything more jake than ever. They're two more of the Dead Who Lived, and it was time we were adding to that bunch."
With his comments, Quill's admiration for the foresight of the visitor who called himself Pike Fengel, was increasing. He waited, hoping that Pike would offer something else.
Pike's hard voice put questions:
"What about this guy Remingwood? Going to take him to the prof?"
Quill's eyes flashed savage suspicion. His hand went to his gun hip.
"Where'd you hear about the prof, Pike?"
"That's what you said to Remingwood," reminded The Shadow, coolly. "Out at the nut joint. So what?"
Quill's hand came from his hip, empty. He was becoming more and more impressed with Pike.
"The prof don't want Remingwood," informed Quill. "He said to send him on a ride. So that's where he's going, when the mob gets back."
"Good enough," observed The Shadow, eyeing Dick. Then: "What're you getting for it, Quill?"
"Five grand. That's enough, ain't it?"
"Maybe it ain't anywhere near the right dough!"
Pike's idea that five thousand dollars was small money, was something that aroused Quill's interest. He motioned The Shadow to a soap box.
"You sound like you'd figured something," said Quill. "Let's hear it, Pike."
THE SHADOW plucked a bent cigarette from a crumpled pack. Lighting it, he let it hang from a corner of his mouth, while he maintained a hard, speculative stare toward Dick.
"Bosco talked to me some," declared The Shadow. "He made out this was a big-time racket; and with you being in it, Quill, I figured it was. The way I size it, this guy" - he thumbed toward Dick - "is worth a lot of dough to the prof you talked about. Am I right?"
"Right! But the prof ain't too well fixed for dough."
"Ain't he after any?" demanded The Shadow. "Or is he pulling this stuff for his health?"
"There'll be plenty of dough later," returned Quill. "I'll get my share. So will the guys that stick along, Pike."
"Sure! You'll get plenty! What's going to guarantee it?"
Quill looked doubtful. He growled that he could count on the prof; that he, Quill, was wise to the racket, and could talk if need be. Gradually, he became angry; finally, he demanded:
"You got any ideas, Pike?"
"Sure!" Rising, The Shadow stalked over to take a contemptuous look at Dick. "Hold this mug for a marker. Then you can make sure the prof comes through."
"That's an idea!" snapped Quill. "But what'll the prof say if Remingwood don't show up somewhere, dead on a parking lot?"
"Tell him you sunk the guy in Long Island Sound. When Remingwood ain't found, the prof will like it all the better. Only one trouble, though; some of these gorillas you got might know too much. You couldn't keep Remingwood here."
By this time, Quill was ready to listen to any suggestions from Pike, and said so. Pike came through with a plan. He'd take care of Remingwood, using some mobbies that he could summon in a hurry.
With paper and pencil, Pike marked out the location of a hideaway so well located that Quill's own headquarters seemed worthless in comparison.
There was a telephone in the next room. Quill told Pike to use it. When The Shadow reappeared, his disguised face showed ugly satisfaction.
"They're coming to the back alley," he told Quill. "Show me the way through. And listen; these mugs won't know who they got, see? That's what makes it slick. You can tell your own crew that it was me took Remingwood for the ride."
"I'll tell the prof the same," decided Quill. "I'm going over there to see him. Only listen, Pike - where'll I say you planted Remingwood?"
The Shadow stroked his hard chin.
"Suppose you have me show up," he told Quill. "Didn't you ever take Bosco over to the prof's?"
"No. I could have, though, if it was important enough. It'd be a good gag, having you blow in and hand him the story of how you got rid of Remingwood."
"Sure! I'll make it sound like the McCoy."
QUILL scrawled the name of Professor Lawsham on a sheet of paper. With it, he added other details, then shoved the paper in The Shadow's hand.
"There's the dope," said Quill. "C'mon; let's get Remingwood started."
They lugged Dick out through a back passage and down a stairway to a door that Quill unbolted. They were in the alley when a car nosed in from the street, gave its dim lights a double blink.
"The crew," whispered The Shadow. "Don't let 'em see you, Quill. They ain't to know you're in it."
"O.K., Pike. I'll be waiting upstairs."
As the door closed behind Quill, there was a low hiss in the darkness. Agents of The Shadow joined their chief; they were startled when they saw his attire. Only the voice that came from the bloated lips of the supposed Pike gave proof that this was The Shadow.
Instructions were brief. Dick heard them along with the agents and listened in amazement, while bonds and gag were being removed from him. There was work ahead, and Dick would be needed, for other agents had varied tasks.
Watch had to be kept over Harry and Arlene, to make sure that crooks didn't change plans about them.
It was bad enough that they had been made victims of the sleeping gas. That was why The Shadow had made such extensive plans with Quill.
As Pike, The Shadow needed a wedge, to work on Professor Lawsham. He was out to play a bold game, and a rapid one, staking everything to save the lives of Harry and Arlene, along with those three men who were the Dead Who Lived.
As soon as the car had pulled away, The Shadow returned into the house. As he ascended the back stairway, he heard shuffling footsteps above: Quill's crew, returning to the hide-out. That bunch of mobbies had come in from the front, and The Shadow was glad that they had returned. It meant that Harry and Arlene were where his agents would find them. Quill's crew didn't matter; with Dick removed from the hide-out, they would make no trouble.
Such was The Shadow's thought. For once, his judgment was to prove wrong. There was dynamite awaiting him - human dynamite, as dangerous as the actual explosive that had blasted the house in the hills.
It came when The Shadow stepped into Quill's main room, confident that his disguise would still serve him. Scarcely across the threshold, he was suddenly surrounded by bristling guns held by thugs who had leaped from every corner.