He walked along the row of booths, looking at the floor until he saw a menu card projecting from beneath a curtain. Cliff entered the booth. Madge Benton was awaiting him.
“Gee, Cliff!” the girl whispered. “This is great! I’ve been waiting for you pretty near half an hour. You can stay a while, can’t you?”
Cliff nodded.
“Durgan told me to beat it,” explained Madge. “Told me to take in a picture show or whatever else I wanted, just so I got out of there.
“He’s got something on his mind. I guess he doesn’t want to be bothered. Something big is doing tonight—”
“Never mind that,” said Cliff lightly. “Let’s forget Durgan. I’ll call the waiter and we’ll order; then we’ll have the rest of the evening all to ourselves.”
Cliff’s work was through for that night. He knew that he could rely upon the three men whom he had known in Sing Sing. In that he was correct. While Cliff was dining with Madge, his henchmen were following his instructions.
IT was approaching midnight when Nipper Brady drove a dilapidated old truck into the New Era Garage on Eighth Avenue. Without leaving the driver’s seat, he spoke to the attendant who approached.
“Say, boy,” said Nipper, “I gotta leave this old wagon overnight. Maybe a couple days. Where can I stick it?”
“Take it on the elevator,” was the reply. “Third floor.”