He was anxious to meet some of the men with whom he had worked ten years before, but he did not know where to find them. He'd have to wait and ask Griffin what had become of them. Then, too, he wanted to transfer his funds.
Prale got another taxicab and started making the rounds of the banks he knew to be solid institutions. Within a few hours he had made arrangements to transfer the account, using four financial institutions. He said nothing, except that the money had been transferred to the trust company from Honduras, because the company had a correspondent there.
His funds secure, Prale went back uptown and to the hotel. The clerk handed him a note with his key. Prale tore it open after he stepped into the elevator. This time it was a sheet of paper upon which a message had been typewritten.
"You can't dodge the law of compensation. For what you have done, you must pay."
Sidney Prale gasped when he read that message, and went back to the ground floor.
"Who left this note for me?" he demanded of the clerk.
"Messenger boy."
"You don't know where he came from?"
"No, sir."
Prale turned away and started for the elevator again. A bell hop stopped him.