"We'll work on him easy. If he talks, all right. If he passes out, we won't waste any more time. We'll give him the works and let him drop!"
Joe Cardona understood. One more round of torture would be his finish. He knew that the result would be the same, whether he framed a trumped-up story to explain his visit to Chicago, or whether he refrained entirely from speech.
At the end, this merciless tiger of the underworld would have no further use for him. Joe Cardona alive, would be a menace. Dead, he could make no trouble.
Those ropes would tighten once more. When their task was finished, they would be released. Guns would bark a message of death, and the captive's body would drop through the opened platform into oblivion!
Still Joe Cardona was game. Although he was sure that help could never arrive in time to save him, he was determined to hold on to life as long as he could.
He set his lips grimly, resolved to yield no cry for mercy.
The carelessness of a bell boy had kept The Shadow from warning Cardona of this trap. Now, he was caught!
Chapter XVIII — The Man from New York
The Napoli Hotel was the new hangout for Mike Gallanta's mob. A small, but fairly modern building, it had been purchased by the notorious gangster, and had been kept as headquarters. A year before, the Chicago police had worried about events that occurred at the Napoli, but now the place was an extinct volcano.
Mike Gallanta was doing time in a Federal prison, along with other income-tax dodgers. His principal lieutenants were going about their business in a wary way, during the absence of their chief. Control over such men as Snooks Milligan was exerted by Al Barruci, who had once been the right hand of Mike Gallanta. At present, Barruci was leading a peaceful existence. Still quartered at the Napoli, he kept an eye upon the tempestuous mobsmen.