The Shadow 109 The Golden Masks by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1936-09-21T22:00:00+00:00

The spotter paid for his Chili, left by the front door and stopped to shove a cigarette between his pasty lips. Eyeing a near corner, Hawkeye saw a stalwart African waiting there. It was Jericho; the man from Harlem was as husky as any Ashanti, although he did not resemble the members of that tribe. Hawkeye gave a signal, then moved on his way. The rest was up to Jericho.

Jericho stopped a moment, then entered. He saw the rear door, went through it. He came upon Seeklat and the other Ashanti; Seeklat had just signed up the new recruit. Seeklat eyed Jericho with a suspicious glare, then queried:

“You from ship?”

“Je ne comprend pas,” grunted Jericho. “Mon pay est Abidjean, Cote d’Ivoire. Je parle que Francais.” Seeklat recognized the names that Jericho uttered. The prospective recruit was claiming that he talked French only; that he came from the town of Abidjean, on the Ivory Coast; the latter being a French colony that adjoined the British Gold Coast.

Seeklat was familiar with that portion of Africa. It seemed likely that a Portuguese ship that had brought an Ashanti would have picked up a hand from the Ivory Coast. In a native babble, Seeklat questioned the Ashanti whom he had just recruited. The native looked at Jericho, gave a noncommittal reply. He was not sure whether or not Jericho had been aboard the Portuguese vessel.

Ordinarily, Seeklat would have rejected Jericho, since he was not an Ashanti. Two reasons made him decide to hire the new man. Seeklat needed Jericho; furthermore, he was impressed by the latter’s size.

Jericho looked as powerful as any of the Ashanti who served the Golden Masks.

Seeklat beckoned. Jericho followed him, along with the Ashanti. Seeklat took the pair to the “el” station; they rode back to the original station and walked to Tallam’s. There, Seeklat took the two indoors, left them downstairs while he went up to report to Tallam.

DURING this interval, Jericho remained as solemn as the Ashanti who stood with him. There was a good reason for his soberness. Jericho had a ticklish game to play. He knew nothing of the Ashanti language; in fact, little of any native jargon used in Africa.

But in discussing that dilemma with Harry Vincent, Jericho had happened to mention that he could speak some French. He had once been employed as doorman at a French restaurant; through contact with waiters and chefs, he had picked up phrases of the language.

That statement had given Harry an idea. He had instructed Jericho to pose as a native of the Ivory Coast, to use his French to the best of his ability. Thereby, Jericho could avoid questions put to him either in English or in the Ashanti tongue.

When Seeklat returned, Jericho sensed that a test was to come. He and the new Ashanti followed Seeklat upstairs; they were conducted to the living room. There, they saw Sidney Tallam, seated at his desk. There was another man in the room; Roger Barfield was looking through the books in the rear alcove that served as a library.

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