STEPHEN KLAW’S train arrived in New York at 8:55 P. M. He slipped quietly off it. Walking through Pennsylvania Station, his slim and wiry figure might have been mistaken for that of a kid back home from college for the holidays – were it not for those cold, slate-grey eyes of his, and for the sure and effortless way in which he handled himself. He kept both hands dug deep in his overcoat pockets as a flock of newspaper reporters and cameramen surrounded him. ‘Is it true, Mr. Klaw, that you’ve been sent here to hunt down Dunstan Vardis?’ ‘That’s true, ‘ said Steve. ‘Dunstan Vardis escaped from Leavenworth five years ago. Since then he’s made a business of harboring wanted criminals. He controls the most vicious gang in the country.’ ‘Are you going to capture him dead or alive?’ ‘Either way.’
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