Although he was so widely acquainted in the underworld, the crafty, beady-eyed little man did not know all the patrons of the Black Ship. Visiting mobsmen from other cities came there frequently. Strange faces were always present. Spotter knew every face at present, however.
Sure he was free from observation, Spotter went to the bar and spoke quietly to Red Mike, the proprietor.
“Let me out by the back way.”
Red Mike considered the request.
“What’s the idea, Spotter?” he asked.
“I’m going to see the big fellow,” whispered Spotter. “I promised him I’d fix it so no one could see me go out of here.”
“All right.”
The proprietor entered a room behind the bar, and Spotter followed. There was a locked door at the other side of the room. Red Mike opened it, and Spotter slipped through like a scurrying rat without even extending thanks.
Hastening through a passage, he emerged through a side door which locked behind him. He was in a deserted walk that led to an alley.
He chuckled as he reached the alley. Only a very few of the elite of gangland knew of this secret way out of the Black Ship.