Five gunmen had gathered, and the comparison was intriguing to Harry Vincent — Schultz and Spirak, swaggering and leering; Genara and Anelmo, silent, and watchful.
But the most sinister figure of them all was Monk Thurman, the man who neither swaggered nor watched. His firm, immobile face betokened a calm determination that made him a more terrible personage than any of the Chicago gangsters.
As the minutes went by, Harry found that his gaze continually reverted to that man with the frozen face.
CHAPTER V
GUNS BARK
MIDNIGHT had passed, and the crowd had thinned. Many players had lost all their money, but those who remained were playing for tremendous stakes. Thousands and thousands of dollars were in view, stacked in piles of bills.
Harry moved alongside of Joe le Blanc, and nudged the man, to indicate the immense sums of money that formed the stakes. Le Blanc nodded.
“Big night,” he said, in an undertone. “Marmosa’s getting all he can. Savoli’s man will be around to collect later on.”
The Homicide Twins were still watching Hymie Schultz and Four-gun Spirak, but the two unwelcome mobsters seemed quite indifferent to the money that was on display.
As for Monk Thurman, he seemed to be utterly oblivious to his surroundings. He was leaning with his back against the bar, his eyes half closed, as he listened to the chatter of Joe le Blanc, who had become voluble under the encouragement of many drinks.