mg.cyro-第26章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
then turned to re…enter the bedroom。 Jose Larribez was totally oblivious to the fact that his conversation with Dombar had been overheard。
Yet every word of that brief talk had reached The Shadow's ears。 Already； the unseen listener was pleting plans for an immediate campaign。
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SHADOW'S THRUST
THE Cafe Internationale occupied a shoddy building not far from the water front。 On the fringe of the Vieux Carre； the place was a meeting spot for seamen ing back and forth between the city and their ships。
More than that； it was a rendezvous for men of all nations。 Michlieu had given his joint an appropriate name。 The babel of many tongues was monplace in the stone…walled room of this water…front den。
Ordinarily； the cafe was a peaceful beanery。 The presence of so many nationalities caused confusion； but also served as a preventative against riots。 As a rule； no group predominated in sufficient force to start massed trouble。 Brawls usually ended with the arrival of the police。
Michlieu was not famed for the quality of his cuisine。 His forte was to supply varied foods； attractive to the many foreign seamen simply because they were dishes found in their own lands。 Drinks； too； were of considerable variety。
In this hangout； Chinamen swallowed rice whisky at the same tables where rugged Germans ordered steins of lager。 Spaniards from the Latin Quarter met with men who spoke their own tongue： sailors from South American countries。 On this night； a sprinkling of Brazilians were present。 These were members of the crew from the Tarrano； who chatted in Portuguese。
There were others from the Tarrano who talked in Spanish； along with a few of Dombar's ilk： Americans who had e with the same ship。 These members of the crew did not seat themselves in tables about the lower room。 Instead； they strolled past toward a stairway that led to the second floor。
Occasionally； intruders made for that stairway。 The hard…boiled waiters let them pass。 But they observed that these unwanted seamen invariably came downstairs after a brief argument with someone above。
Behind the Cafe Internationale was a low…roofed building that offered access to the second floor。 Standing by the wall of this adjoining structure was a huge African； attired in grimy overalls。 He looked like a stoker from some ship。
A square…shouldered man came strolling past。 He； too； was roughly clad。 As he paused to light a cigarette； the flame showed his face as a clean…chiseled countenance。
〃Ready； Jericho？〃 questioned the newer； in a whisper。
〃All set； Mr。 Marsland；〃 returned the African。 〃Tell me when to start。〃
〃I'm waiting for Hawkeye。 You'll see us go in。〃
CLIFF MARSLAND； agent of The Shadow； moved away。 Further along； he passed another man of his own build。 This was Harry Vincent； also of The Shadow's forces。 They had e here from New York； in response to orders through Rutledge Mann。
A hunched figure appeared on the opposite sidewalk。 Cliff spoke to Harry and received a low reply。 The new arrival was 〃Hawkeye。〃 Cliff crossed and met the newer。 Once a crook； now reformed； Hawkeye was here to serve The Shadow。
He looked like a roustabout in his present attire。
Harry Vincent； alone again； heard a strange whisper from the darkness。 He could not see the person who had uttered it； but he recognized the signal。 He had heard The Shadow's whisper earlier tonight。 Harry had brought the other agents to the vicinity of the Cafe Internationale。
Harry signaled with his hand。 Cliff Marsland and Hawkeye strolled toward the cafe。 Harry followed。 Jericho waited at his post。 Then； with the slouch of a lazy Goliath； the big African moved along。 He stooped as he entered the portals of the Cafe Internationale。
The place was crowded。 Jericho lounged through the smoke…filled room； where the aromas of many tobaccos formed a nauseating medley。 He spied the stairway。 Stooping； Jericho ascended。 He was stopped by a wiry ruffian at the top。
〃What you want here？〃 questioned the man。
〃Cajobabo；〃 returned Jericho； with a grin。
The fellow surveyed the African giant。 He nudged his thumb toward the door。 Jericho entered。 Men stopped talking as he appeared。 One arose。 It was Dombar。
〃Who let you in？〃 quizzed the ugly faced man。 〃Wasn't there a fellow here at the door？〃
〃I gave the word；〃 replied Jericho； still grinning。 〃Cajobabo was it。〃
Dombar looked about。 He caught shrugs of shoulders and shakes of heads。
None of the outfit claimed Jericho as one of their mates。
〃Where did you hear this Cajobabo？〃 demanded Dombar； defiantly。
〃Out at the door；〃 returned Jericho。 〃I says how do ya get in here； mister？ He says 'Cajobabo'…〃
〃Yeah？ We'll ask him。〃
Dombar strode to the door。 Jericho slouched after him。 They faced the ruffian who was on guard。 Standing at the top of the steps； Dombar growled：
〃Why did you let this man in here？〃
〃He tell me Cajobabo；〃 returned the guard。
〃And you didn't spill it to him？〃 quizzed Dombar。 〃Like he said inside …
that you told it to him…〃
〃He tell me Cajobabo！〃
The guard thrust his hand inside his shirt。 Something flashed from beneath the grime of the blue flannel。 Dombar gave a nod。 As the guard yanked a knife； Dombar leaped for Jericho。
WITH a roar of laughter； the African side…stepped。 His massive left paw was already swinging。 It clamped the knife…drawing guard by the neck and spun the fellow about； on a helpless teeter。 As Dombar missed Jericho's throat； the big fellow caught him with a quick right hand。
Huge arms swung together。 Two skulls cracked forcibly。 The burdens slumped from Jericho's grasp。 The guard sprawled on the steps； Dombar toppled headlong and went skidding downward。
At the same instant； chairs scraped heavily below。 From the tables nearest the stairway； agents of The Shadow sprang to their feet and started a dash up the steps。 But Jericho was not awaiting them。
Just inside the door of the upstairs room was a small but heavy table。 The instant that he dropped Dombar and the guard； Jericho turned back into the room。
He grabbed the table as a weapon。
Murderers were on their feet。 These minions of Larribez were no ordinary brawlers。 They had seen their rades fall。 They were out to kill。 Dirks flashed。 One knife came zimming through the air。
Jericho had swung the table as a shield。 The whizzing knife buried deep in the tabletop that the African held before him。 Dropping his grinning face behind the wooden surface； Jericho let another blade skim past his head。 He plunged forward like a huge bull。 Then； with a sidesweep； he began to swing the table。
One man sprawled； a gun clattering from his fist。 Jericho had backed into a corner； beating out with the table as if it were a mammoth club。 Other guns were flashing。 Shots barked from the door。 Would…be killers turned。 They fired back at the agents of The Shadow。
Low upon the steps； Cliff； Harry and Hawkeye were safe from the bullets that ricocheted from stone。
Ruffians turned as Jericho emitted a huge laugh。 They saw him holding the table in his right hand as he pointed to the window with his left。 There； in from the roof； stood The Shadow； ready with his automatics。
THE SHADOW knew with whom he had to deal。 These false seamen were murderers。 Jose Larribez had chosen cutthroats for his merciless mob。 Every one of the evil crew had mitted crimes which merited the death penalty。 All had eluded the toils of the law。
Yet The Shadow lent them opportunity。 Had they submitted to the menace of his looming guns； he would have ceased this raid。 Had mobsters been his foemen； they might have cowered in face of The Shadow's might。
But to Larribez's thugs； the arrival of this enemy was signal for concerted murder。 Forgetting all other foes； they swung to kill。 New knives sped toward the weaving form while revolvers aimed in ready hands。
Whirling as he dropped to the floor； The Shadow escaped the whistling dirks。 He had foreseen that move； as had Jericho。 But as The Shadow dropped； his automatics thundered。 A split…second ahead of his desperate attackers； The Shadow
