Harry Vincent was still bewildered when he fell asleep.
CHAPTER XIV
SPOTTER PAYS A VISIT
The denizens of New York’s underworld prowl while others sleep. At the very time when Harry Vincent was retiring, in peaceful Brookdale, a little stoop-shouldered man was sidling along an obscure street in Manhattan.
It was nearly twenty-four hours since Spotter had talked with Steve Cronin. The murderer had disappeared from town, and Maloney’s crew of killers had cleared out at the same time.
Only Spotter remained. No one connected him with the death of Reds Mackin.
All evening, Spotter had frequented his usual haunts. He had been to the Black Ship, the Pink Rat, and other notorious dives of the underworld.
Those who had seen him had not suspected that he had any purpose in his mind. That was Spotter’s way. Cunning and secretive, the eagle-eyed crook conducted his affairs without interference.
Tonight he had slipped out of the Pink Rat, and had chosen a course through narrow side streets that had assured him that no one was following him.
Spotter was always cautious that way. He had sure methods of slipping out of sight. Even though no one might be following him, he used his precautions.