Rising unsteadily, Harry shambled away toward the door. He continued his pretense of unsteadiness as he walked down the street.
He went into an alley and gradually quickened his pace. Ten minutes later, he reached a cigar store several blocks from the Black Ship. There, in a phone booth, he dialed a number.
“Burbank,” came the low response over the wire.
“Vincent,” said Harry. “Report on Homer Briggs. Hiding out in basement under old pawnshop, formerly run by Moose Glutz.”
“Were you there?”
“No. I saw Briggs at the Black Ship. He told some one where he was hiding. The news got around.”
“Good. Call again. Ten minutes.”
When Harry made his second call, Burbank had instructions. The man had evidently communicated with The Shadow in the meantime.
He told Harry to go back to the Black Ship. His return there would allay any suspicion that might arise later. It would also enable him to observe if Homer returned.
Harry followed the order that he had received. He wended his way back to the dive and resumed his wavering gait as soon as he approached the place.