“This refers to Prince Zuvor,” he said, with a shrewd gleam in his eyes. “I told you that the prince was dangerous.
“A man has called to see him. The man is a millionaire — his name is Lamont Cranston.” Prokop’s voice became suddenly triumphant.
“This man Cranston,” he added, “carries the sign of the Seventh Star.”
This time Prokop believed that he caught an expression of astonishment upon the Red Envoy’s lips.
“That means plotting,” said Prokop emphatically. “Prince Zuvor is a menace. He will make trouble for our cause. We should make an example of him.”
“You are anxious to dispose of Prince Zuvor?”
“I am,” admitted Prokop. “While he lives, my agents wonder why I do not strike him. Three of our men are detailed to watch him.
“Long vigil without result injures their morale. I have a plan which will surely dispose of him. I ask your permission to use it.”
“What is your plan?”
“Fritz Bloch,” said Prokop, in a low voice, “is our Agent K. He is posing as Prince Zuvor’s servant. He, above all others, desires the death of Zuvor. He has heard so much said in Zuvor’s home — so many statements denouncing our cause-“
“I understand,” interrupted the Red Envoy quietly. “Go on with your scheme.”
“My plan is this,” explained Prokop. “I shall give Agent K one of the new bombs — with the time-clock attachment. He can plant it in Zuvor’s house. Then pouf! It will be the end of the Zuvor and his czarist servant, Ivan Shiskin.”
THE Red Envoy was thoughtful. He seemed to be considering the merits of Prokop’s scheme.
“I shall do this at the meeting,” continued Prokop. “In the presence of all our agents, I shall delegate Agent K to the work. They will be exuberant — “
The Red Envoy held up a crimson-clad hand.
“What happened at Prince Zuvor’s house last night?” he questioned.
“I have not heard,” admitted Prokop.
“There was an elevator accident near there — ” began the Red Envoy.
Prokop smiled as he interrupted. He admired the insight of the Red Envoy.
The masked man knew that the accident had been the work of the Red agents, even though Prokop had not revealed the fact that his men had tampered with the elevator.
“That,” said Prokop, “was one of Prince Zuvor’s safe ways of leaving his house. A man should have died in that crash — somehow, he must have escaped.”
“Who was the man who escaped?” came the Red Envoy’s question.
“Cranston, perhaps,” answered Prokop. “I have not yet called Agent G, to learn if a report has come from Fritz Bloch.”
“Make the call immediately.”
Prokop went to the telephone. He gave a number.
Prokop had an ingenious method of communicating with his agents. At each meeting, an announcement was made of a new telephone number, where one of the agents — usually Agent G — would be stationed. Any messages were phoned by agents to that number.
By calling the number himself, Prokop could learn what the agents were doing, and could leave instructions for them.
To-night, he inquired if Agent K had phoned, Receiving an affirmative reply, Prokop began to take down words that were given him over the telephone, by Agent G. Fritz Bloch had sent a report in code.
The verbal message made no sense when Prokop had copied it. By referring to a code list among his papers, Prokop translated the message, and quickly told Fritz Bloch’s message to the Red Envoy.
“It was Cranston who came to Zuvor’s last night,” said Prokop. “The prince sent him away by the secret method. Something must have gone wrong. I imagine that the elevator broke before Cranston had a chance to enter it.”
“What else does Fritz say?”
“He tells me that Cranston made an appointment to meet Prince Zuvor at his home, one week from last night. The appointment will be at nine o’clock. They will then discuss important matters.”
The Red Envoy was thoughtful. Prokop, staring past the masked man, again observed that blackness that seemed so thick by the door. He became a trifle worried.
He was about to make a remark, when the Red Envoy spoke. This time the lips were expressive. They indicated the cunning thoughts that were in the man’s brain.
“I agree with you,” said the Red Envoy. “Zuvor is a menace. He must be destroyed. But you must be patient — for six days, at least.
“Our one great task is to obtain Whitburn’s plans and diagrams. Until we have them, any other action would be unwise.
“However, I am confident that we shall obtain the plans, within a few days. So I shall now tell you what I propose should be done with Zuvor. My scheme will enable us to dispose of two enemies instead of one.”
Prokop sensed that the masked man had thought out an ingenious arrangement. The next words of the Red Envoy proved that fact.
“Call a meeting,” said the Red Envoy. “Make it the night before Cranston is to come to see Zuvor. Give the bomb to the proper agent. Have it timed for ten minutes after nine. Place it in Zuvor’s house. The explosion will kill both our enemies.”
“And Ivan Shiskin, also,” added Prokop, in a pleased voice. “I shall give the bomb to Fritz Bloch — Agent K.”
“No,” said the Red Envoy thoughtfully. “Send Fritz a gray card. We do not want him at the meeting, if there is any danger that Prince Zuvor might suspect.
“Should Fritz come to the meeting, give him the bomb. If he is not present, send him a green card — which will tell him to leave immediately, because of threatening danger. Then he will be away.
“Agents B and M — those who are now watching Zuvor’s house — can attend to the planting of the bomb.”
“Very good,” replied Prokop. “I shall summon both of them to the meeting. How about Agent F — Volovick? I sent him a yellow card, you remember.”
“Bring him to the meeting. He has been away long enough. Send him a black card.”
Prokop could not control his delight, as he carefully wrote down the Red Envoy’s instructions. The spectacle of both Prince Zuvor and Lamont Cranston being blown to eternity was most pleasing to his imagination.
“But remember,” interposed the Red Envoy, “this must not go into effect unless we have managed to obtain Whitburn’s plans. But I expect to have them — very soon. I myself am going to Lake Marrinack.”
This prospect surprised Prokop. He had not expected action on the Red Envoy’s part. For a moment, he was tempted to object to this usurping of his power; then he realized that the Red Envoy was master.
“I shall go there,” declared the Red Envoy. “Notify your agent to expect me. I shall gain the plans. When I do — you will receive a telephone call — by long distance. It will give you time to make immediate arrangements.
“After making such arrangements, either remain here or leave a note, telling me where to call for the tickets — and just what my schedule will be. I have the passports.”
Prokop bowed in acknowledgment.
The Red Agent rose from his chair. As he did so, the shadow behind him seemed to grow. Prokop saw it, and uttered a startled cry. The Red Envoy, turning toward the door, obscured Prokop’s view.
“What is the matter?” questioned the masked man.
“Nothing,” said Prokop. He could see the door now — the blotch of darkness was no longer there. “I must be excited; I thought I saw something behind you.”
The Red Envoy made no reply. He walked to the door, opened it, and was gone. Prokop watched from his window, standing at the side, and peering through the crack of a shade. He did not see the Red Envoy in the street.
There was a reason. The Red Envoy took off his mask and gloves as he went down the dark stairs, and obscured his face in the collar of his coat.