"Furthermore," continued Harry, "our transaction can take place in the security of this hotel, which is a great advantage to you. I doubt that your other — client, shall I call him? — is offering you that consideration."
"Let me think this over," said Powell. "I'm too much worried about — well, just worried — "
"About the other deal," interposed Harry quietly. "I'll tell you something, Powell. If a man came to you and offered to work this with you, you'd be willing to split fifty-fifty with him.
Just because you are worried.
"Well, suppose I make that offer. Only, instead of collecting fifty per cent, I'll pay you that amount! How does that sound?"
Powell's eyes gleamed, but he still hesitated. Harry quickly continued with his offer.
"The reason I know so much," Harry was saying, "is because I've been well posted regarding you and your methods. You're not a crook, but you have been in some shady deals.
Your specialty is gaining information and supplying it to certain interested parties.
"You reason that if a man knows facts and wants to tell them, he can do so and collect money for it. Particularly, when the crime of blackmail does not begin until after his own transaction has ended.
"That sizes you up, doesn't it?"
Powell smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"In the case of Brockley," continued Harry, "you fell into certain information. You have said that you consider it to be yours. It involves a crime committed in France — where you were not molested by the police.
"You came to America, and you reason that you can do what you see fit with what you know. I was waiting for you in New York. I watched you there.
"You held one mysterious phone conversation from a pay station. Because of it, you came to Baltimore. I came also."
"Why didn't you talk to me in New York?" asked Powell.
"Because I wanted to make sure you were going through with the deal," responded Harry.
"You came here yesterday. Knowing what I do of you, I realized by your actions that you are springing the deal tonight. Those road maps that you were consulting — "
Harry's voice drifted away. Powell turned to look at the speaker. He saw that Harry Vincent was smiling. Wallace Powell realized that this man had the goods.
"Just one point more," said Harry. "Whatever you are doing must necessarily depend upon what you received from Herbert Brockley.
"If I were a detective, I could arrest you now, and find out all you know. I could have obtained the articles by theft. But I preferred to deal with you direct."
"Why?"
"Because I am anxious to know all about the persons with whom you are dealing!"
"All right," declared Powell suddenly. "I'll think this over. Let's say you're right." He grinned as he spoke.
"There's no witnesses here, and I can deny anything later.
"I'm out for dough. Your offer sounds good. I'm going somewhere. I'd like to have a pal.
If you'll put up fifty per cent of what I'm getting, I'll consider it."
"How much money?" questioned Harry.
"I'm shooting for ten grand," said Powell. "That means, five thousand simoleons is what you've got to pay."
"That's agreeable to me."
"I'm going up to think it over," declared Powell. "There's two reasons besides cash why I'm willing to work with you. You're wise enough to know what they are, so I'll spill them.
"One is because you've got me more worried than I was. I'm going out on this deal, but I've been hesitating. I can't wait much longer.
"And that gives the second reason. You're wise to me, and if I want to dodge you completely, I'll have to welsh on the other proposition. But I want to be sure that I'll get my five grand from you."
"You'll be as sure of it as you are of the ten thousand you're after." Powell nodded without thinking. It was evident that Harry Vincent had cleverly contrived to arouse the man's suspicious nature.
"It's ten o'clock now," said Powell thoughtfully. "I'm going to wait another hour. I'll think things over — up in my room. I want to be alone a while."
"Wait a moment," said Harry. "I'll make terms with you first. How about letting me in on everything right now. Taking your five thousand — "
"Nix!" exclaimed Powell. "Spill you the ten-grand lay? That don't work. I'm taking you in with me as partners. You've got work to do — you'll have to earn the dough you're spending."
"You want me to go with you?" Harry asked.
"You bet I do," Powell replied. "That gives you the dope you want firsthand."
"And," added Harry, "also protects you a bit."
"That's just it. When we get to the place, you slip me the cash. Then I'll go in and get the ten grand, leaving what I've got!"
"That works the other way," smiled Harry. "I want to know exactly what you're going to leave. You show me what you're taking in, so I can check up on your story.
"You can take the five thousand dollars with you. I'll be waiting for you. I won't blow."
"You might — "
"Not a bit of it. Because I want to know who you're dickering with, and get some other facts from you. I'll let those wait until you join me."
"All right," agreed Powell.
"Get this straight, Powell!" Harry's voice was emphatic. "We're both taking chances tonight. I'm shooting fair, and I expect you to do the same. It's to your advantage.
"Remember this. You're taking no more chances with me than you are where you're going. I'm sticking with you. Understand?"
"Right," answered Powell, "but I won't be ready for a while. I want to mull this over, and I've got to go up to my room. Where will you be?"
"Here in the lobby."
Wallace Powell arose and extended his hand. Harry Vincent accepted it. The gawky man moved forward, and Harry stood aside to let him pass.
They were finishing their handclasp, and Harry was at Powell's side. A number of road maps were extending from Powell's right coat pocket. One of them was on the point of falling.
Instinctively, Harry plucked it with his left hand, and it came free of the pocket. Harry's left hand dropped behind his back as Powell walked away. The man, fortunately, did not turn to look back.
"Perhaps I made a mistake," thought Harry, as he stood alone. "If he finds this missing, he may suspect, and call off the deal. But then" — his chain of thought changed — "if this means anything and Powell knows it's gone, he'll be anxious to work with me quick — because he'll be afraid I'll get there ahead of him!" Sitting at a smoking table, Harry Vincent unfolded the road map, and a smile came to his lips. The map was marked. Off from a main road extended a thin, penciled line, leading toward the town of Herkimer. Harry noted at one spot, the beginning of a fork, the line continued to the right. Then, at a spot marked with a cross line, was a tiny road leading off, and the letter "X" at the end of it. What was the cross line? A bridge? The letter must surely indicate a house. Harry Vincent had obtained the advance information that he wanted. He was still willing to spend the five thousand dollars to learn all that Wallace Powell knew!
Chapter V — A Guest Checks Out
When Harry Vincent returned to the lobby of the hotel, he resumed his placid waiting in the chair by the pillar. The clock above the desk showed quarter past ten. From Harry's estimate on the road map, the spot near Herkimer could not be more than an hour's ride from Baltimore.
Harry knew that Wallace Powell had an automobile available, though Powell did not refer to it in talking; neither did Harry mention his own car, ready for use.
Indeed, there were various facts which Harry had not found it necessary to reveal. The most important concerned Harry's presence here tonight.
Powell had assumed that Harry was working for his own interests. Had the stoop-shouldered man known Harry Vincent's real employer, he would have been utterly dumfounded and — in all probability terrified. Harry Vincent was an agent of The Shadow. That fact told a tremendous story, for The Shadow was such a mysterious figure that even his agents seemed cloaked in the veil of darkness which surrounded him.