“Go away, now,” said the big man, “and come back here at seven o’clock tonight. If you need money at any time, tell me. I am trusting you because I know Barutti.
“Stay at a hotel near here, so you will not have far to go.”
HARRY VINCENT left the office and walked down the gently sloping stairs. The entire restaurant seemed different to him now.
Now he realized that the elaborate downstairs establishment was nothing more than a blind for the den upstairs. Perhaps Frank Marmosa was conducting a profitable restaurant; but that was not the business upon which he relied.
Harry registered at the Goliath Hotel, a single block from the restaurant.
Within an hour after his arrival in Chicago, Harry Vincent had stepped within the borderland of gangdom. He had obtained a position which would enable him to watch and to gain information without incurring the grave risks that threatened the average gangster. Yet he realized that even his position with Marmosa held danger in store, and he welcomed that danger.
For he knew that while he might appear to be working for Frank Marmosa, the gambling king, he would actually be working for another. He owed his real allegiance to that strange, mysterious person who was the talk of all New York — the man they called The Shadow.
One dominating thought gripped Harry’s mind. He was sure that he had divined the purpose of the work that lay ahead.
The Shadow had transferred activities from New York to Chicago, with one definite motive — to track all those who had been responsible for the death of Claude Fellows!
Harry had heard of Chicago gangsters. Now he was to encounter them. They were different from the mobsters of New York.