The one designated as Heeny was scarcely of the gangster type, although he carried a determined air that made an instant impression. But the other man — the one whom Le Blanc did not name — commanded Harry’s close attention.
He was tall, and somewhat slender and he had an erect carriage that bespoke a powerful physique. His face was almost masklike in its expression.
When he fixed his eyes upon Harry, they seemed to carry a steady, boring gaze that was challenging and defiant. Harry could not take his eyes from the gangster’s face.
For almost a full minute, no one spoke; then Le Blanc waved his hand toward Heeny.
“Hello, Ed,” he said. “Thought you’d be here tonight. This is Harry Vincent. Fellow that’s going to take my job, after I leave here. Who’s your pal, Ed?”
The gangster grinned.
“Ever hear of Monk Thurman?” he questioned.
“You mean the fellow that used to be with the Four Points gang in New York?” returned Le Blanc.
“That’s who I mean,” replied Heeny. “You’ve heard of him, eh?”
“Sure thing. Never met him, though.”