The words stung the listener’s senses like a whiplash. He tried to identify the voice, but he was unable to recall where he had heard it before.
“We’ve got him just where we want him,” remarked the man addressed as Somers, “and I don’t think he’ll get away from us this time. It will be a miracle if he does.”
“Not even a miracle can save him. The Phantom is done for. You did a good job, Somers.”
“Oh, it was easy enough. All we had to do was to shoot some dope into the moll, pose her in the window of the car, and drive past the place where we had been tipped off we would find the Phantom. I was just wondering how to get him out of the joint, when he walks out of a doorway, catches a glimpse of the skirt, and rushes blindly into the trap. It worked like greased lightning. Looks as though he’d be dead to the world for quite a while yet.”
The Phantom repressed a smile. His superb constitution was already shaking off the effects of the chloroform.
“How is the little doll?” inquired the first speaker, who seemed to be a man of authority in the Duke’s organization.
“Chipper as a wild cat. She came to shortly after we got here. That kid had spunk, and she’s all there on looks. I don’t blame the Gray Phantom for falling for her. I would myself.”
“Sentiment and business make a bad mixture,” was the other’s dry comment. “Don’t let a pretty face bedevil you, Somers. The young lady is here to serve our purpose. After that——”
He stopped, and the ensuing pause somehow impressed the Phantom as ominous.
“Well, then what?” asked Somers, and there was a slight catch to his voice.