The Wealth Seeker

CHAPTER XVII. TEX GIVES ORDERS

TWO nights after Commissioner Weston and Detective Cardona had held their consultation, Tex Lowner again appeared under the lights of Park Avenue. The gang leader swaggered as he approached the entry that led to Doctor Harlow’s office.

No one was watching the place to-night. Cardona’s blind trail to the Club Madrid had evidently satisfied the police that Tex was not engaged in present crime. The gang leader’s lips formed a confident smile as Tex stepped into Harlow’s waiting room.

The physician put in a prompt appearance. He appeared ill at ease as he invited Tex into his office. As on the former occasion, Harlow locked the door to the waiting room and also made sure that the way to the laboratory was tightly closed.

Meanwhile the bright lights of Park Avenue formed curious splotches on the sidewalk, where their spheres of illumination crossed. There were shadowy spots, if one had cared to notice them; and one of these blobs of blackness was in motion. It showed no sign of its owner until Harlow’s entry was suddenly darkened by a shape which pressed against it.

The Shadow, sinister visitant of the night, had trailed Tex Lowner here. He was entering to listen in on the conversation between the gang leader and the physician. Swiftly, The Shadow moved along the hall in spectral fashion. His blackened instrument clicked the laboratory lock. The Shadow entered that room.

With silent, yet swift precaution, The Shadow repeated his maneuver with the door between the laboratory and the office. The trifling crack that formed, as The Shadow eased the portal, could not have excited the suspicion of either Tex Lowner or Wesley Harlow.

The two were beginning their conversation when The Shadow heard them. Tex was speaking and his tone was not a friendly one. Harlow, as The Shadow viewed his profile, seemed quite a bit disturbed.

“TRIED some foolish stuff, eh?” Tex questioned. “Flopped again. I suppose you figure that’s a good enough excuse for not showing up with the hundred grand.”

“Listen, Lowner,” pleaded Harlow. “You know I would not have tried a method like that. The fact that the second raid occurred should prove to you that I had nothing to do with the first.”

“Quit the stalling,” leered Tex in contemptuous fashion. “It don’t matter to me even if you did team up with Rabbit Gorton. I hated that guy and I’m glad he got the works. What I want to know is — where’s my hundred grand?”

“I couldn’t get it,” pleaded. Harlow. “I told you I’d handle it in my own way. I tried to — but I couldn’t get started when I talked with Satruff. I started out, hoping that you would understand the situation when I explained it to you. Then the raid started.”

“Mighty funny,” scoffed Tex, “the way those birds crash in just as soon as you go out. Gives you a chance to do the hero stuff, eh? A chance to take a shot at one of your pals when he flops on the job.”

“I tell you, Lowner, I didn’t—”

“Forget it. That’s not why I came here — to hear your alibis. I want the dough. Savvy? One hundred grand — and you’re going to grab it. To-night— before midnight!

“This is your last chance, Harlow. Forget the flops. If you fliv this time, I’ll spring the works. Lefty Yates is where I can get him. He’ll go to the bulls — and when they question him, it will be just too bad for you.”

“I’ll go out to Satruff’s,” returned Harlow angrily. “I’ll get the money. I’m sure I can work it if I get half a chance.”

“You’ll make the chance, or else—”

“I know. You’ve threatened me before, Lowner.”

“Listen.” The gang leader’s tone was serious. “I’m leaving this to you, Harlow, and I’ll make good my threat if you miss out. Just the same, I want the dough more than I do your scalp. So I’m going to be there to-night. In person.

“I’m wise to one thing. This dick, Cardona, is hanging around Satruff’s. Besides that, Vincent is there, and he made plenty of trouble for Rabbit, so I hear.

“So I’m not making any blind raid like Pug and Rabbit did. I’m going to be off a way — down toward the Sound, where they won’t be looking for me. I’m coming in after trouble starts — not before, if I can help it.”

“There won’t be any trouble,” protested Harlow.

“I’m talking about what may happen before twelve to-night,” resumed Tex. “That’s going to be the dead line. You’d better do your work before it. When you get the dough, you may have to do a slide out. I’ll be outside of the strong-room door. Instead of me coming in, you’ll be coming out. I’ll have the mob to help you on a get-away.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea, Lowner,” asserted the physician. “I can work this quietly — no talk — no fight — no trouble — if I get the opportunity I need. These raids haven’t helped me — they’ve hindered me.”

“Midnight,” declared Tex, gruffly ignoring Harlow’s protest, “is the dead line. Get the dough before then, or I’m not promising what’s going to happen.”

DOCTOR HARLOW stared steadily at the domineering gang leader. The physician’s lips twisted. A cunning glow appeared in his eyes. Tex noted the expression and his hand slid toward his hip pocket.

“Figuring on trying to bump me, maybe?” quizzed the gang leader harshly. “Like you did with Pug and tried to do with Rabbit? Not much” — Tex’s laugh was a raucous one — “not much! You’re dealing with a tough hombre, Harlow. I’m not a squealer. I’m a guy that lifts the lid.”

“I shot Pug,” started Harlow slowly, “because he was threatening Folsom Satruff. I didn’t try to kill Rabbit. I attempted to disarm him. I’m not a murderer, Lowner, much though I might desire to be.”

“You may be smooth with some guys,” jeered Tex, “but not with me, Harlow. Remember that. I’ve pulled some big jobs, and I got after them right. Pug Hoffler was just a two-bit gorilla. Rabbit Gorton was a geek who’d chase for cover every time he thought any one was after him.

“I’m warning you, Harlow, in case you’ve got any funny business up your sleeve. Those other birds may have thought they had something on you. I’ve got something. Got it, understand?”

“All right, Lowner,” said Harlow wearily. “There’s no use harping on it. You’re giving me credit for being one of your own kind. I’ve told you that I have nothing in common with such ruffians as Pug and Rabbit. They were scum— and you’re pretty close to their class.”

Tex tightened his fingers about the butt of his revolver. Harlow noticed the action and shrugged his shoulders.

“A few minutes ago,” he remarked, “you were suggesting that I might be considering violence. You acted as though you expected me to draw a gun and shoot you down. Now you are trying those tactics yourself. Go ahead.”

“Not a chance,” snarled Tex. “You’re worth a hundred thousand berries alive — and not a nickel dead. You’re going to get that dough — to-night.”

“I’m going to get it,” repeated Harlow firmly.

“Before midnight,” prompted Tex.

“Before midnight,” repeated the physician.

Tex dropped his hand from his gun. With a snarling laugh, he turned and opened the door to the waiting room. He paused long enough to stare harshly at Harlow. Then, with a contemptuous snort, he closed the door and departed.

DOCTOR HARLOW sat down after the gang leader had departed. His sallow features twitched. He rubbed his chin methodically. Then, in brusque fashion, he picked up the desk telephone and put in a call for Garport.

The Shadow was listening intently. The door had opened a trifle farther, now that Harlow was alone. A long, spectral shape of blackness stretched across the floor. Behind it was looming darkness broken only by a pair of glowing eyes.

“Hello…” Harlow was speaking. “That you, Vincent?… Yes, Doctor Harlow speaking… Yes, I should like to talk with Mr. Satruff.”

A pause, then Harlow’s voice resumed after some one else had come on the wire.

“Hello, Satruff?… Yes, this is Harlow… I am coming out to see you to-night… Good. I thought you would remember that we had a tentative appointment… Listen, Satruff, I should like to talk with you alone, when I see you… Yes, alone… Yes. It is important. I can explain the matter when I see you…”

A smile appeared upon Harlow’s lips. Evidently Satruff had agreed to the interview. The physician hung up the receiver. He opened a desk drawer. He drew out a stub-nosed revolver and weighed the weapon in his hand. Then, with a nod, he thrust the gun into his pocket. Closing the door, Doctor Harlow donned hat and coat and strode out through the waiting room.

The figure of The Shadow moved. The door from the laboratory came slowly open. The spectral shape in black edged into the room. The Shadow stood upon the scene, where dramatic tenseness had so recently held sway. Tex Lowner, domineering gang leader, had delivered his ultimatum. He had forced Doctor Wesley Harlow to meet the final issue. The physician had responded. He, in turn, had paved the way to his important visit to Folsom Satruff’s home.

Tex Lowner had gone; Doctor Harlow had departed. Only The Shadow remained. He was to be the third in to-night’s grim game. A soft, whispered laugh broke from The Shadow’s hidden lips. The black-garbed visitor stalked across the office and opened the door to the waiting room.

Into darkness merged The Shadow. A shuddered echo of a whispered laugh lingered, as the only token of this sinister being. The Shadow, like the others, had departed.

He, too, had chosen a mission for to-night!