From his vest pocket, Palermo removed three coins — a five-cent piece and two coppers. Rising, he delivered them to Warwick. The detective stared at the coins. All three bore the date 1915.
The detective fumbled in his pocket and brought out a fifty-cent piece, which he gave to the physician. Its date corresponded to those on the other coins.
“WARWICK,” said Palermo, drawing his chair close to the detective, “you know the mission of the Silent Seven. They are known only to themselves”—his voice became low and impressive—”and their followers must obey them without question.”
Stanley Warwick nodded.
“Like the others,” continued Palermo, “you have gained your present position through the influence of some member. We are men of power, seeking more power.
“Here in New York you have been useful to us. But never did we demand your services except in cases of extreme urgency. That is why our power has become great and our secrecy has been preserved—
because we have not abused our privilege. How often have you worked for us?”
“Only twice,” replied Warwick.
“Both times concerned matters of tremendous consequences, did they not?”
“They did.”