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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's sweeping fire found living targets。
Straight up into the brawling crew that surged upon him。 Such was The Shadow's move。 With it； Jericho hurled his table at an enemy。 Leaping forward； he grabbed milling bodies and hurled them to the floor。
The Shadow did not need this aid。 Rising upward； he came clear of sprawling ruffians who had slumped upon him as human shields。 But Jericho's response was timely； and hard upon it came a surge of the agents from the door。
Staggering murderers were scattering about the room。
Pounding up the stairs were new fighters from below。 The roustabouts who patronized this dive were ing to join the fray。 The Shadow aimed an automatic straight for the big bulb that illuminated this upstairs den。 He fired。 The room was blackened。
A hiss。 Jericho went through the window； head…foremost to the roof beyond。
The other agents followed the course of his bulky figure。 As a shouting mob surged into the room； The Shadow wheeled and stepped across the sill。
Agents had dropped to safety from the low wall beyond the adjacent building。 The Shadow swung to the rear of the roof。 His automatics blazed shots in the air。 A police whistle sounded。 Arriving officers headed toward the back of the Cafe Internationale。 The Shadow was gone when they arrived。
The remnants of Larribez's crew had started a wild battle in the dark； plunging toward the surging horde from below。 Wounded and half…staggered； these hopeless fighters had gone down beneath an overwhelming rush。 When the police invasion came； the strife was finished。
FAR from the scene of this terrific tumult； Raoul Brilliard was sketching in his studio。 Watching him was Tracy Lence。 The New Yorker did not share the Parisian's ease。 Lence was restless。
Tabac； the lone Apache； was huddled in a corner。
〃Make yourself fortable； Lence；〃 suggested Brilliard； blandly。 〃It is too early to expect Larribez。 His ship d