and saw her. Very casually, he stopped, smiled, and said something Into the ear of his companion. They went back downstairs.
"He seems to have recognized you, too," said the Phantom. "Who is he?" ,
"He was a guest on San Obito Island," she said rapidly. "Claimed to be in television, or some kind of communications, but he must be one of Chris Danton's men."
"It's not likely they'll stay now." The Phantom pushed back from their table. "Wait here, Diana, and I'll see if I can find out where they're headed."
There was no sign of the gray-haired man in the crowded downstairs room.
The Phantom asked the headwaiter, "The gray- haired gentleman and the blonde, where did they go?"
The waiter smiled a perfunctory smile. "They apparently decided they did not wish to dine with us this evening. The rain sometimes makes people act In—"
"Did they have a reservation? Do you know his name?"
"No, senor. Although I believe . .
The Phantom pushed out into the street. The rain had changed to a misty drizzle. No one was visible on the sidewalk.
The window of the lone cab at the curb rolled
down. "Don't get wet, senor. I'll take you anyplace."
Sprinting to the open window of the cab, the Phantom asked, "The couple who just came out. Which way did they go?"
The man tugged at the left side of his lopsided mustache. "No one has come out of there in the past ten minutes, senor. A very slow night."
The Phantom returned inside. "Getting closer," he said to himself. "But not close enough."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rain continued.
A little after ten the next morning, the Phantom received a phone call. "Senor Walker?"
"Yes, speaking."
"This is Jimenez," said the man on the other end. "We met yesterday, you recall?"
"Do you have some information on where Torres is?"
"No, senor. But if you can meet me near his cantina in one hour, I can take you to his partner, who will be able to help you," Jimenez promised him. "Also, could you be prepared to pay me, say, twenty-five American dollars?"
"I'll see you ?n an hour." He cradled the receiver, smiled across the room at Diana. "This may be something."
The dark-haired girl was sitting in a wicker armchair. "Another solo performance?"
'Yes, that's the safest thing." The Phantom fetched his trench coat out of the closet. "You stay here or in your room."
"Where are you meeting your informant?"
"In the vicinity of the Ail-American Cantina," he replied. "I want to get there a little early to make sure no one is planning an ambush." He kissed her on the cheek as he left the room.
There was only Jimenez. He was huddled in the doorway of the little grocery store next to the cantina, watching the rainy street. The same shaggy yellow dog was scavenging his way down the block. "Over here, senor," called Jimenez when he saw the Phantom approaching.
The Phantom had arrived nearly a half hour before and carefully checked out the neighborhood. When he was satisfied that this didn't look like a Danton setup, he let himself be seen. "Ready to go?" he asked the small thin Jimenez.
"It is not that distant, senor." The other man was wearing a thick black overcoat and a Panama hat. "We can walk."
The old shopkeeper peered out of his store, recognized the Phantom, and asked, "How are you today, senor?"
"Fine and yourself?"
"I would do better if rogues and rascals didn't use my place of business as a shelter against the rain." ~
Jimenez gave him a brief scowl before stepping down onto the sidewalk. He proceeded to lead the Phantom downhill and quite close to the sea. In front of a small warehouse made of black stone, he stopped. "The twenty-five dollars which was mentioned, senor?"
"Here you are." Rain and wind slapped at the money when he drew it from his wallet.
There was an awning of tattered canvas over the wooden warehouse door, and it kept some of the rain off the two men. "His name is Ramirez," explained the Phantom's guide. "He may want ... oh, perhaps fifty dollars to tell you what he knows."
"He's expecting me?"
"Yes, senor. It
"He seems to have recognized you, too," said the Phantom. "Who is he?" ,
"He was a guest on San Obito Island," she said rapidly. "Claimed to be in television, or some kind of communications, but he must be one of Chris Danton's men."
"It's not likely they'll stay now." The Phantom pushed back from their table. "Wait here, Diana, and I'll see if I can find out where they're headed."
There was no sign of the gray-haired man in the crowded downstairs room.
The Phantom asked the headwaiter, "The gray- haired gentleman and the blonde, where did they go?"
The waiter smiled a perfunctory smile. "They apparently decided they did not wish to dine with us this evening. The rain sometimes makes people act In—"
"Did they have a reservation? Do you know his name?"
"No, senor. Although I believe . .
The Phantom pushed out into the street. The rain had changed to a misty drizzle. No one was visible on the sidewalk.
The window of the lone cab at the curb rolled
down. "Don't get wet, senor. I'll take you anyplace."
Sprinting to the open window of the cab, the Phantom asked, "The couple who just came out. Which way did they go?"
The man tugged at the left side of his lopsided mustache. "No one has come out of there in the past ten minutes, senor. A very slow night."
The Phantom returned inside. "Getting closer," he said to himself. "But not close enough."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rain continued.
A little after ten the next morning, the Phantom received a phone call. "Senor Walker?"
"Yes, speaking."
"This is Jimenez," said the man on the other end. "We met yesterday, you recall?"
"Do you have some information on where Torres is?"
"No, senor. But if you can meet me near his cantina in one hour, I can take you to his partner, who will be able to help you," Jimenez promised him. "Also, could you be prepared to pay me, say, twenty-five American dollars?"
"I'll see you ?n an hour." He cradled the receiver, smiled across the room at Diana. "This may be something."
The dark-haired girl was sitting in a wicker armchair. "Another solo performance?"
'Yes, that's the safest thing." The Phantom fetched his trench coat out of the closet. "You stay here or in your room."
"Where are you meeting your informant?"
"In the vicinity of the Ail-American Cantina," he replied. "I want to get there a little early to make sure no one is planning an ambush." He kissed her on the cheek as he left the room.
There was only Jimenez. He was huddled in the doorway of the little grocery store next to the cantina, watching the rainy street. The same shaggy yellow dog was scavenging his way down the block. "Over here, senor," called Jimenez when he saw the Phantom approaching.
The Phantom had arrived nearly a half hour before and carefully checked out the neighborhood. When he was satisfied that this didn't look like a Danton setup, he let himself be seen. "Ready to go?" he asked the small thin Jimenez.
"It is not that distant, senor." The other man was wearing a thick black overcoat and a Panama hat. "We can walk."
The old shopkeeper peered out of his store, recognized the Phantom, and asked, "How are you today, senor?"
"Fine and yourself?"
"I would do better if rogues and rascals didn't use my place of business as a shelter against the rain." ~
Jimenez gave him a brief scowl before stepping down onto the sidewalk. He proceeded to lead the Phantom downhill and quite close to the sea. In front of a small warehouse made of black stone, he stopped. "The twenty-five dollars which was mentioned, senor?"
"Here you are." Rain and wind slapped at the money when he drew it from his wallet.
There was an awning of tattered canvas over the wooden warehouse door, and it kept some of the rain off the two men. "His name is Ramirez," explained the Phantom's guide. "He may want ... oh, perhaps fifty dollars to tell you what he knows."
"He's expecting me?"
"Yes, senor. It
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