Now he had the opportunity to regain it. All rivals had been driven to cover — all the enemies had been forced away, except one — The Shadow. But that formidable opponent had not even appeared during the conflict.
Borrango had mentioned The Shadow to Nick Savoli. The enforcer was sure that the man of mystery had left Chicago when the guns had begun to bark. But Savoli was not so sure.
He, himself, was subtle. He had waited until the others had shot their bolt. Perhaps The Shadow was waiting, too; waiting until the opposing forces had gone their limit.
If so, that time had come now!
Still came the other question. Where was Monk Thurman?
Had he been killed by Larrigan’s men, during the first part of the fight? What was his attitude now, toward Savoli?
He had not kept the appointment which would have meant his death. Did he know the truth?
Neither Savoli nor Borrango had heard the story of Mike Larrigan’s ride, and the walk which had followed it. Larrigan had kept that secret to himself.
Perhaps Thurman had left town. If he was still in Chicago, he might be an enemy, rather than a friend.
It was possible that he had aligned himself with one of the rival mobs; yet that seemed unlikely. For none of Savoli’s men had encountered Monk Thurman during the week of strife.