The rescuer grinned.
“Listen, Jerry.” The old man’s voice expressed disapproval. “Did you pass any of the phony cash over in Brookdale?”
Jerry nodded.
“Then it was your fault that this fellow came on our trail. Well, you’ve made amends for it. We’ve caught Vic Marquette — the secret-service man who works alone.”
“What will we do with him?” questioned Birdie Crull.
“Bump him off, of course,” replied the old man. “There’s nothing else to worry us. We might as well finish this fellow Vincent at the same time. Get it all over with.”
“We were going to make Vincent talk,” observed Crull.
“I know it,” replied Isaac Coffran, “but that’s hardly necessary. If he’s working alone, as he says, he doesn’t matter. If he comes from The Shadow, we don’t have to worry. Tiger Bronson got the Shadow.”
Harry Vincent groaned. Now he understood why he had received no detailed reply by wireless. The Shadow had been killed; the few orders that Harry had received came from his agents — not from the master mind. There had been no message over the air from WNX at nine o’clock.
“Want me to bump them off?” questioned Birdie Crull. His voice indicated that the taking of a life was no great matter to him.