"Not on us. Cardona's working alone. He hasn't reached the end of the trail yet. What would it cost to fix it?"
"Five grand. Through Snooks Milligan."
"What do you say, chief?" asked the rajah.
"Go ahead," declared the quiet voice.
"All right," said Rajah Brahman. "You make the call, Slade. They can watch for him at Plunket's. It's only a little after eight, now. That's about seven in Chicago. Madame Plunket usually starts her seance at eight-"
His voice broke off suddenly. Rising in the dark, Rajah Brahman strode rapidly across the room and threw aside the curtain into the anteroom. He stood there, staring.
The others could see his form in the dim light that came from the anteroom. Rajah Brahman was attired in a dressing gown. In his hand he held a revolver.
"Tony," he called.
The white-clad form of Imam Singh appeared from the outer door.
"Have a gat ready," ordered Rajah Brahman. "Stay by the front door of the apartment. I've got a hunch that someone is around this place. I'm going to find out!"