CASTLE OF DOOM..........................................................................................................................................1

Maxwell Grant.........................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER I. CRIME OVER LONDON .................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. CRIME DISCUSSED......................................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. TWISTED TRAILS ........................................................................................................8

CHAPTER IV. THE HOUSE IN WHITECHAPEL.............................................................................11

CHAPTER V. DEATH AND STRIFE ..................................................................................................16

CHAPTER VI. AT CHISWOLD CASTLE ...........................................................................................19

CHAPTER VII. THE SHADOW'S CHOICE ........................................................................................23

CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN AT THE INN..........................................................................................27

CHAPTER IX. JEREMY MEETS A GHOST......................................................................................31

CHAPTER X. THE MASK CHANGES...............................................................................................34

CHAPTER XI. TRAILS DIVERGE ......................................................................................................38

CHAPTER XII. NIGHT BRINGS ITS SHADOW...............................................................................42

CHAPTER XIII. THE CASTLE ............................................................................................................46

CHAPTER XIV. THE FINAL VIGIL ...................................................................................................50

CHAPTER XV. DEATH AT DAWN...................................................................................................54

CHAPTER XVI. OLD JEREMY'S STORY.........................................................................................57

CHAPTER XVII. BELATED VISITORS .............................................................................................61

CHAPTER XVIII. WITHIN AND WITHOUT .....................................................................................66

CHAPTER XIX. THE NEW ALLY ......................................................................................................70

CHAPTER XX. CHANCE BRINGS ITS ISSUE.................................................................................74

CHAPTER XXI. BENEATH THE CASTLE ........................................................................................78

CHAPTER XXII. CRIME STANDS REVEALED ...............................................................................82

CHAPTER XXIII. THE DOUBLE STROKE .......................................................................................86

CHAPTER XXIV. THE LAST TRIBUTE ............................................................................................89

THICK, smokeladen fog had gained its grip on London. Night, descending like some black umbra through

the mist, had added sinister gloom. Street lamps, their rays cast back upon them, were nothing more than

Silence was heaviest upon a narrow street not far from Piccadilly Circus. This thoroughfare lay somewhere

between the huge stores of Regent Street and the quality shops of Bond Street. The very obscurity of the

section added to the lull; but with it, the unnatural calmness was foreboding. Stilled air seem to be waiting for

The shrill sound of a policeman's whistle cleaved the fog. Shouts came in muffled utterance. Harsh oaths

were rasped in challenge. Then came the scurry of footsteps upon paving; after that, the heavy pound of

Rogues of the night had countered with the law. Ghoulish plunderers, creeping out from hiding places, had

been scattered back to cover. Patrolling policemen had converged, were staying close to the vicinity. Heavy,

Close by one of Piccadilly's corners, a stalwart uniformed figure loomed into the light. Steady eyes peered

from beneath a helmet. Then the London bobby raised his arm as a pedestrian approached.

"Better not go through that way, sir," informed the officer. "There are prowlers about. They may be footpads,

THE man who spoke was nattily attired. He was wearing a lightgray topcoat and a trim bowler hat. His face

showed him to be no more than thirty years; and his features carried an aristocratic mark. High cheek bones,

sharp nose and gray eyes that were dreary despite their friendly gaze. The bobby took mental note of that

The young man nodded. He was nervous as he tightened the fawncolored gloves that he was wearing. Then

his jauntiness returned; he drew a light walking stick from beneath his elbow and swung it rakishly to

indicate that he had at least a slight measure of protection should he encounter danger.

"I am going to the Acropolis Club, near St. James Street," he told the bobby. "Since I can reach there by

continuing along Piccadilly to my turning point, I shall do so. Good evening, officer."

Fog swallowed the welldressed young man as he swaggered along his way. The bobby resumed a

New footsteps clicked. A welldressed young man came into the hazy light. The officer surveyed a cleancut

face; then took note of the arrival's attire. This passer stopped of his own volition. He addressed the bobby in

"Hello, officer," he said, with a friendly smile. "I'm lost in this plagued fog. I wonder if you could give me

"Certainly, sir," acknowledged the bobby, "but first I must warn you to be careful hereabouts. There have

"The newspapers have agreed upon that," laughed the American. "They claim that the mysterious burglars

have accumulated everything that is worthwhile taking in this section and others. Rather an exaggeration, to

"Quite right you are, sir." Ending his discussion of recent crime, the bobby changed the subject. "About your

directions, sir. You are in Piccadilly, walking westward. What destination have you chosen, sir?"

THE officer stared, momentarily dumfounded by the coincidence. Then, politely, he covered his surprise and

gave careful directions. The American set out upon the route that the previous man had taken.

Another bobby approached from the side street. He came with information from the restricted area.

"We have scoured the neighborhood," he stated. "The rogues have scattered back to shelter. The orders to

The speaker paused. A pedestrian was strolling from the mist. He was a man of military bearing, that

appearance being increased by his attire. He was wearing a khakicolored overcoat; his felt hat was set at a

The first bobby stared. He had seen coincidence in the fact that two passers had been going on foot to the

The officer had remembered the first man's face. High cheeks, sharp nose and gray eyes. A voice that was

brisk; but well accented. To his amazement, the bobby was staring at that face again, listening to the same

Yet this could not be the identical Englishman. The first had worn a lightgray topcoat and bowler hat. This

man was clad in a khaki coat and soft hat. The first had worn gloves and carried a walking stick; this man had

Moreover, the first man had continued west. This chap had come from an easterly direction. Brief minutes

had separated their arrivals. Yet, as he stared, the bobby realized that the first man might have stopped

"Beg pardon, sir," questioned the bobby. "Were you not the gentleman who passed by a short while ago?"

"I?" queried the sharpfaced young man, in apparent surprise. "Not at all. I have been strolling in this

The bobby's query was cagey. It was an effort to learn the new arrival's destination. Gray eyes flashed.

"Ah! I have it!" The wayfarer's tone was jesting. "Some other chap, dressed like myself, strolled by here in

the fog. Well, I must grant that my attire is a bit unusual for a Londoner. You see, I am just home from

THE bobby had stepped a trifle to one side, to gain a better view of the man's face. The wayfarer noticed this

"You are wondering about India?" he laughed. "Wondering why my face is not a tanned one? That is because

I came home on sick leave. I lost two stone in weight, thanks to the beastly fever spell that I experienced in

"It was not that, sir," confessed the bobby, stepping back. "It was your face, not your attire that made me

"Ah! My face is not the same?" The question was quick. "Perhaps you did not observe the other chap closely,

"Your face is the same," expressed the officer, slowly, with a deliberate nod of his head. "Quite the same, sir,

"Your paleness. Once you mentioned it, sir, I realized the truth of it. Had I been asked to choose which one of

"He was, sir. Quite swanky with his lightgray topcoat, his bowler and his walking stick."

"Ah! A walking stick!" The man in the khaki coat took up a bantering mood. "I fancy that he carries it quite

The bobby had no reply. The description was so perfect that he again stood dumbfounded, able only to nod.

"That was it, sir," added the second bobby. "There was another man also going to the Acropolis Club; but he

The young man laughed heartily, while both bobbies smiled. Then, with a slight click of his heels, the

TRAMPING footsteps faded as the bobbies resumed their beat. Crime had been a false alarm tonight. The

wave of robbery that had been discussed was rightly classed as something of the past. Yet crime had not been

It hovered still, as menacing as the fog; and, singularly, that first bobby at the corner had come in contact

with three men whom crime would soon concern. Grim events would involve those Englishmen who looked

Into that same picture would come the man who had appeared between; the American who had been directed

to the place that the other two appeared to know more perfectly the Acropolis Club near St. James Street.

CRIME talk was heavy at the Acropolis Club. It was the only subject among the members who had gathered

in the smoking lounge. Fog had not kept these gentlemen from their accustomed meeting place; and in their

"Outrageous!" Such was the opinion given by a dignified man with a drooping, white mustache.

"Scotland Yard is not idle, however, Dunbarth," objected a roundishfaced club member. "Those audacious

crimes were committed one after the other, with such expedition that the law could not keep pace with them."

"Quite so, Rutherwaite," acknowledged Dunbarth. "Nevertheless, crime may begin again. Mark my words!"

"What is your opinion, Cranston?" queried Rutherwaite, turning to a tall, calmfaced personage who was

seated nearby. "Do you not agree that the miscreants will be content with the hauls that they have made?"

"Quite probably," was the quiet response, "so far as London is concerned. Their booty has been estimated at

"More nearly half a million," put in Rutherwaite, "according to the latest estimate of the Daily Sketch.".

"What of the American journals?" queried Rutherwaite. "Have they exaggerated the news from London?"

"I left New York," he stated, "two days after the crime wave began. At that time, the American newspapers

estimated that half a million dollars in valuables had been taken. While I was making the voyage to England,

the wave continued, to reach three times its original toll. A million and a half dollars would coincide with

"Precisely," nodded Dunbarth. "The Duke of Clandermoor's gold plates; the portraits from the Earl of

Kelgood's gallery; the two jewelry shops on Bond Street; the jade vases housed in storage, that awaited

"And the jeweled tiaras," added Rutherwaite, "that belonged to Lady Darriol; to say nothing of the

"Which I intended to include," interposed Dunbarth, testily. "But why quibble over estimates? The vital point

is: what has Scotland Yard learned through its wellknown Criminal Investigation Department? Only that the

robbers used motor vans in every expedition, to aid their entry and speed their departure."

"Quite right," agreed Rutherwaite. "A servant was slain at the Duke of Clandermoor's town house. An officer

was shot in cold blood when the robbery was done at Pettigrew's shop in Bond Street."

"Not in London." The words were Cranston's, delivered in a tone of finality. "Murder, perhaps, in London.

THERE was an almost prophetic note in the speaker's voice, as though he had coolly calculated the future.

There was reason why that should be. For this American who had arrived in London was not a chance visitor

He was a master sleuth, The Shadow. Learning of swift, mysterious crime in the British capital, The Shadow

"That is it," nodded Rutherwaite. "Why should the bounders resort to further crime? They have made their

haul. The proper course the one that the Yard has taken is to watch every port and every vessel leaving

A young man had entered the lounge while Dunbarth was speaking. Rutherwaite waved a greeting. This

arrival was the very man who had first met the bobby at one of Piccadilly's corners. Rutherwaite made the

"This is Geoffrey Chiswold," he told The Shadow. "Jeff, this is Lamont Cranston, recently arrived from New

"You are one of several Londoners whose names have attracted my attention," he told Chiswold. "Are you

not the Geoffrey Chiswold who recently sold your property to a man named Barton Modbury?"

"Yes," acknowledged Geoffrey, with a nod. Then, bitterly: "It had been in the family for more than three

"The place had become a burden," explained Geoffrey. "The upkeep and maintenance of servants would have

driven me into debt. I wanted to make journeys, particularly to Canada. I invariably lacked a sufficient

"I suppose the situation has changed," inserted Rutherwaite. "You should find present circumstances an

"I have," acknowledged Geoffrey. "I am prepared for my voyage. I sail tomorrow for Canada."

"I did quite well. Modbury is wealthy. He was willing to pay the price that I asked."

"No," he replied, "Modbury is a South African from the Kimberley region. He is a specialist in the choice of

Geoffrey stopped abruptly. His face became troubled. Then, in a confidential tone, he added:

"That fact must not be mentioned, gentlemen. It is the reason why Barton Modbury chose to purchase

"Then," queried The Shadow, "Barton Modbury purchased Chiswold Castle because of the protection it

"He did," nodded Geoffrey, "and he has reopened it. He wanted me to be his guest there, for he is entertaining

some of the finest folk to whom I introduced him. However" Geoffrey smiled regretfully "I could not

fancy myself occupying a place in Chiswold Castle while I was no longer the owner. That is why I decided

Geoffrey Chiswold arose and shook hands in parting. He strolled away to chat with other friends. The

Shadow, still standing, turned about as an attendant approached and handed him an envelope. The Shadow

"The gentleman is waiting at the door, sir," stated the attendant. "Will there be a reply?"

"Yes." The Shadow smiled slightly as he wrote a note of his own and folded it. "Give this to Mr. Vincent."

The attendant departed. When he arrived at the door of the club, he gave the message to a young man who

was standing there. This arrival was the second passer whom the bobby had encountered in Piccadilly; the

He was Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow. He, too, had come to London, to aid in the tracking down of

criminals. Harry had brought in a report of certain investigations which he had conducted at The Shadow's

The message that Harry read at the door of the Acropolis Club referred to Geoffrey Chiswold. It gave the

club member's name, described his appearance and attire with exactitude. It told Harry to wait until Geoffrey

Chiswold came from the Acropolis Club; then to take up his trail through the fog and report where Geoffrey

For in Geoffrey Chiswold's mention of Barton Modbury, the South African diamond king, The Shadow had

found cause for prompt investigation. Though The Shadow agreed with Scotland Yard upon the point that

successful criminals intended to remove their swag from England, he also held to theories of his own.

He had heard of Chiswold Castle previously. Tonight, he had met Geoffrey Chiswold and had listened to

brief statements from the former owner concerning Barton Modbury, the diamond king who had bought the

In picturing the coming trail, The Shadow had seen Chiswold Castle as a possible goal for men of crime. That

was why he had deputed Harry Vincent to the task of learning all he could concerning Geoffrey Chiswold.

THE SHADOW had expected Geoffrey Chiswold's stay to be a short one at the Acropolis Club. His

calculation was correct. Within twenty minutes after his arrival, Geoffrey made his departure.

When Geoffrey Chiswold stepped from the Acropolis Club, Harry spotted him immediately.

He took up the trail. An easy one, at first, for Geoffrey's footsteps were a half shuffle from the sidewalk. As

the trail continued, Harry allowed more leeway. At times, he loitered, then made swifter pace to draw close to

his quarry. Guided by sound, Harry gained confidence, except when other passers added their gaits to

Then came the incident that threw Harry off the trail. They had passed a side thoroughfare where Harry had

been out of touch with the footsteps. As Harry closed in again, he saw the blurred light from a restaurant

window, a place which offered him a chance to check upon the trail. He closed in upon the man whose

He had caught sight of his quarry, but the man was no longer Geoffrey Chiswold. Though Harry could only

see his back, he knew that the man was the wrong one. Footsteps had been deceiving; the light proved the

fact. The man just ahead of Harry was not wearing a gray topcoat and Derby hat. Instead, he was attired in

Harry could think of but one logical spot; the last street that they had passed. Turning, The Shadow's agent

made as much haste as possible in the opposite direction. He still had hope to pick up the lost trail. Odd

circumstance had tricked Harry Vincent. The other was the man who looked like Geoffrey Chiswold, a fact

that Harry had not discerned by the lights of the restaurant, for he had seen the man's back and not his face.

The chief deception lay in the fact that the man who intervened was walking in exactly the same fashion as

UP ahead, Geoffrey Chiswold had maintained his pace. As he continued, he became conscious of a sound

behind him; one that resembled an echo. He paused by a doorway and listened. The shuffling echo sounded

His right hand clutching his walking stick, Geoffrey edged back toward the light. He fancied that he heard

sounds creeping toward him from the fog. He caught a momentary glimpse of a stocky form. Swinging the

cane, Geoffrey bounded forward. As he did, the other man sprang from the opposite direction.

They met in the lighted patch. A khakicolored arm shot forward and caught Geoffrey's wrist. As the young

man writhed, unable to swing his cane, he came face to face with his antagonist. Geoffrey's struggle ceased.

"The Chiswolds meet," remarked Nigel, in a tone which was similar to Geoffrey's. "Two cousins reunited

"I thought you were in India," replied Geoffrey, coldly. "What brings you back to London?"

"The call of home," returned Nigel, "plus a Bombay fever. Well, old chap, the prodigal has returned. As my

"Let us drop it, Jeff. Money does not matter; I changed my spendthrift habits while in India. I have gained a

"Chiswold Castle was my property, Nigel. It was part of my inheritance. You had no share of it."

"Then you can keep them. That is what I have chosen to do. I am leaving for Canada tomorrow."

"So soon?" Nigel was studying his cousin closely. "Well, since you will be absent, do you think that

"So that is it!" he accused. "You wish to profit by my friendships. To use our relationship as a method of

imposing upon wealthy persons, such as Modbury. You have heard about him, I suppose "

"A rogue," returned his cousin. "One who was a black sheep when he left England. Whose return can be but a

single indication. You are here to get money by any means. I would put you above none."

Geoffrey found difficulty in stammering a reply. Before he could become coherent, Nigel sneered

"I'm glad I located you," he scoffed. "I could not learn what club you belonged to, in the short while I have

"That's why I waited for you; to find out how much you knew. Well, Jeff, your mind sees possibilities,

doesn't it? As soon as you encounter your cousin Nigel, your thoughts go back to the past. You see in me a

potential criminal; one who has grown, magnified, enlarged; until now you connect me with actual crime "

"I do!" challenged Geoffrey. "So will others, when they come to investigate you. They will realize what I

realized; that every recent crime here in London involved places and spoils that you might know about.

"The gold plates at Clandermoor's! You dined off it ten years ago! The Kelgood gallery! We played hide and

seek in there when we were youngsters! The jewelry shops, where our grandaunt use to take us! The tiaras

"I have seen them all," interposed Nigel, "and so have you, my dear cousin. What would Scotland Yard say,

"And should I prove to them that I was aboard a P and O liner at the time of the robberies? Then whom

"Whether you did or not," remarked Nigel, "it does not matter. As for Modbury and his diamonds, I shall find

out regarding them. Perhaps his wealth has been overrated. Possibly" Nigel paused and curled a disdainful

smile "possibly Modbury merely wanted seclusion and sea air. On the contrary" Nigel's tone was

"If so, he may have possessions with which he can well dispense. If so, I shall learn. Because, Jeff, I intend to

go to Chiswold Castle. If you refuse to introduce me to Modbury, I shall go there on my own initiative."

Geoffrey Chiswold had regained a grip upon himself. He was firm as he met his cousin's steady, narrowed

"One move, Nigel," he warned, "and I shall denounce you to the law. It is only to protect the Chiswold name

"The Chiswold name," snorted Nigel. "You always were hypocritical about it, Jeff. Go on. Denounce me to

"Since you are leaving England, I shall make no trouble for you. Ah! You are eyeing me! You are pleased to

"Why not try? I shall grant you privilege to use your cane. That would make a proper handicap. But

remember, it might bring us to a police court. The Chiswold cousins would come into prominence. It would

be better to restrain yourself, Jeff. Say nothing. Sail for Canada. Be away when scandal breaks."

PRODUCING a pencil and a card, Nigel passed them to Geoffrey. Calmly, he ordered:

"Write the address of your diggings. I may be calling there tomorrow, to see if you have left. Do not hesitate

Quivering with both fear and rage, Geoffrey scrawled the address and thrust the card into Nigel's hand. His

"I never take advice," interposed Nigel. "I give it. Take mine and go to Canada, or else jump into the

With that, Nigel Chiswold turned on his heel and strode away through the fog; leaving his cousin Geoffrey

HARRY VINCENT, in his effort to regain Geoffrey Chiswold's trail, had run into various difficulties. Not

only had he failed to pick up sounds of footsteps along the side street; he had run into an obstructing block

A street ran left and right. Neither direction seemed the more likely. Finally, however, Harry had decided on

the left, in the hope that he might regain the corner where he had first lost the trail.

A lowbuilt corner light afforded a chance to locate himself. Harry made in that direction; then paused,

confused. He saw a long, narrow street stretching away into a path of murky gloom; but he could not decide

whether or not it would lead him from this puzzling region. It was while he chided himself upon his

The footsteps were quicker than Geoffrey's; but they bore a resemblance. Harry drew back into a doorway

and waited. A man came into the range of the light, then stopped there. Harry stared completely amazed.

This was the man who had led him from Geoffrey's trail; the walker in the khaki topcoat. But as the man

paused in the light, Harry caught a complete glimpse of his features. Like the bobby at the Piccadilly corner,

Watching, Harry saw Nigel draw a card from his pocket and study it as though memorizing something

written there. Then, with a slight laugh, Nigel tore the card into eight pieces and tossed the bits of pasteboard

Harry hurried forward. He scooped up the pieces of the card, but made no attempt to put them together.

Instead, he hurried after Nigel. Soon, he was again on the trail of elusive footbeats. Nigel, however, proved

His speed changed; his footsteps turned a corner, then faded. Following, Harry decided that the man must

have changed his gait. Then he realized that he was following no one. Nigel must have guessed that he was

Harry's only clue was the torn card. Reaching a main thoroughfare, he found a hotel. He went into the lobby,

sat at a writing desk and pieced the card together. It gave him the address of a flat in the Belgravia section,

near Belgrave Square. Harry made a telephone call to The Shadow, at the Acropolis Club. He was told to

MEANWHILE, Nigel Chiswold had arrived at an obscure hotel, not far from Soho, that foreign corner so

curiously wedged into West End London. Ascending by a lift, Nigel went along a darkened hall and knocked

A huge, darkskinned man greeted him. The fellow was a veritable giant who looked ill at ease in his English

clothes. Had he been in native costume, he might have been taken for a Hindu; but he was not of that

"You have found the man?" queried the Afghan, slowly. "The one that you did seek?"

"I found my beloved cousin," laughed Nigel, "and that means a task for you. He says that he is going to

"Too far away; and yet not far enough. What is more, the beggar does not trust me. After we had parted, he

followed me. I ended that little game. It made me feel sure, though, that he had given me his correct address."

Nigel produced a map of London. He pointed out Belgrave Square while Amakar, looking over his master's

"Do you remember Sannarak?" questioned Nigel, looking up. "The chap who made so much trouble for us at

"Do the same tonight. To my cousin, Geoffrey, when he has left the place where he lives. He will have to go

to the London docks." Nigel pointed out the spot beside the Thames. "Therefore, you may arrange the

"Speak to them in Soho, before you leave. Tell them to be ready near the docks. When they see you, they can

"As for my cousin," smiled Nigel, wisely, as he stuffed a briar pipe with tobacco, "you will know him when

"I understand," replied the Afghan. "The face that will seem to be my master's will be the face of his cousin."

"That is the correct assumption. Afterward, Amakar, come back here and give me all the details. Then I shall

Nigel arose and opened the door. The Afghan went out into the hall. Nigel saw him go down a flight of rear

Below, dulled by the fog, lay a hazy spread of illumination that represented Soho. That section, with its

varied flood of humanity, had been Amakar's habitat since he and Nigel had been in London.

It was a place where those of many nations rallied. Soho, where an Afghan might pass as a Hindu and where

Hindus were not uncommon. Like other portions of London the others in the East End Soho was a spot

where lurkers flourished. Amakar, the Afghan, had friends in Soho, who were not of his own nationality.

NOT long after Amakar had left the hotel, Harry Vincent arrived at Belgrave Square. Harry could actually

discern the fronts of staid, oldfashioned buildings that loomed indefinitely up into the blackness. They were

One of these houses bore the address number that Harry had pieced together from the card. From the outlet of

the little culdesac, Harry could see lights in the windows of the second story rear.

He recalled that the card had borne the reference "2 B"; and that fact proved that the building contained flats.

Two to a floor, as Harry estimated; which meant that someone was at home in the place for which he had

searched. Harry's next problem was to learn who lived there. While he was pondering upon some plan, the

Harry circled to the front of the building, keeping far enough away to be obscured. While he was watching, a

taxicab chugged up and parked in front of the house. The driver alighted and stood waiting upon the curb.

It was Geoffrey Chiswold, wearing his gray coat and bowler. Geoffrey was carrying a huge suitcase, which

he turned over to the taxi driver. He went back into the house and reappeared with a second suitcase of

HARRY turned up his coat collar and shuffled into the light. With shoulders slightly stooped, he approached

Geoffrey with the manner of a hangerabout who knew this neighborhood. Obsequiously, Harry tipped two

"Very well." Geoffrey nodded as he handed the suitcase to Harry, who carried it to the cab. "Wait here, my

The taxi driver glowered at Harry's interference; but The Shadow's agent made no comment. He shuffled

back to the door of the building, relieved Geoffrey of two smaller grips and took them to the cab. He held the

door open for Geoffrey to enter the vehicle. The taxi driver shrugged and took his place behind the wheel.

"Here is a shilling, my good fellow," said Geoffrey, passing a coin to Harry. Then to the taxi driver: "Take

The cab swung around an isolated lamp post and the driver slowed to take directions. Harry, sauntering away,

caught a last glimpse of the vehicle. Had the cab not been there, he might have spied a man who had stepped

Amakar, the Afghan, had made good speed from the neighborhood of Soho. He had come by underground,

arriving just as the taxi was pulling away from the house. Too late to hear Geoffrey speak to the driver,

SIDLED UP beside the cab, Amakar peered into the interior. Geoffrey had turned on the dome light. In the

feeble glow, Amakar spied the features that resembled those of his master, Nigel. His own dark features

almost out of sight, Amakar watched and listened while he heard Geoffrey address the driver.

"Choosin' my way, sir," returned the driver. "There's roads as is better on a blarsted night than this one. Goin'

"As for harfterward, sir, where is it that you'll be wantin' to go? If I knows as where to tyke you, when you

"After Liverpool Street," interrupted Geoffrey, "I am proceeding to London docks. To go aboard the

Steamship Borealis. But I shall walk from Liverpool Station, through Aldgate and east to the docks. It will be

"A good plan, sir. I'd bet me last bob that you'd be reachin' the docks afore I'll be comin' with the luggage.

The cab moved onward. Harry Vincent was out of sight in the fog. Amakar, stepping back from the lighted

island, was seen by no one. The Afghan was gulped by the blackness, vanishing like some fabulous, gigantic

Belgravia was a secluded island in the midst of London; but it was not far from that section to the jumbled

hubbub of Victoria. It was thither that Harry Vincent had headed, knowing that he would find two requisites

a telephone and an underground station. Despite the shortness of the walk, he had trouble finding his

From one of the railway stations, he called the Acropolis Club and spoke to The Shadow. Harry informed his

chief that the Belgravia address had been Geoffrey's. This was information, for Geoffrey's only known

Then Harry added that Geoffrey was bound for Liverpool Street Station, which formed a terminus of the

London and Northeastern Railway. He mentioned that Geoffrey had gone by cab. Beyond that, Harry knew

nothing else. He had not overheard the final conversation between Geoffrey and the driver.

The Shadow's order was to go to Liverpool Street. Taking the underground, Harry was soon speeding on his

way. He was confident that he would reach the L.N.E. depot ahead of Geoffrey; he knew also that he would

REACHING Liverpool Street, Harry began to watch for incoming cabs. This was a puzzling task, for it took

him several minutes to determine where Geoffrey's taxi might arrive. At last Harry stationed himself at the

right spot and was immediately rewarded. A cab pulled into view and Geoffrey alighted.

The taxi driver must have known streets where fog had thinned, for he had made surprisingly good time on

the journey. Light traffic had unquestionably aided him along his course. So Harry thought as he followed

Geoffrey into the railway station and watched while the young man reclaimed a light but bulky package from

Geoffrey went back to the cab with Harry following. He put the parcel aboard with his luggage and spoke to

the driver. Then, instead of entering the cab, Geoffrey turned and walked away. For a moment, Harry stood

The taxi driver was ready to pull out. Another cab blocked his passage. He climbed out angrily to start an

argument with its driver. The other driver gave a goodnatured guffaw, delivered in cockney fashion.

Geoffrey's cabby could see no joke about the matter. He was about to force a quarrel with the jester when the

other cabby himself brought an end to the forthcoming quarrel. Turning, he happened to see a tall arrival who

had stepped quietly into view at the moment when Geoffrey's cabby had climbed out of his cab.

A quiet reply in the negative. The tall stranger turned and strolled away in the direction of Houndsditch Road,

the direct path to Aldgate. Quickening his pace to a long, easy stride, he set his lips in a thin, fixed smile as

This arrival at Liverpool Street was The Shadow. Still in the guise of Lamont Cranston, wearing a light cape

and high silk hat, he had covered his evening clothes when he had left the Acropolis Club.

Reaching his goal just before Harry Vincent's departure, The Shadow had divined that the disputant with the

luggagefilled cab was the driver who had brought Geoffrey Chiswold here. He had learned which way

AT Aldgate, the eastern limit of the old city, Harry was close upon Geoffrey's heels. He was taking no

chances upon losing his quarry. From Houndsditch Road, Geoffrey turned east into Aldgate High Street, as

Harry had expected. Lights showed him hazily in the fog. A short walk carried Geoffrey to Whitechapel High

Street. There Harry saw the young man hesitate. After a brief pause, Geoffrey suddenly started into the

Once again, Harry was trailing by footsteps; and as he muffled his own tread, he fancied that he caught slight,

scuffling sounds from across the fogladen street. It seemed as though some heavy, longpacing walker was

Geoffrey turned a corner. So did Harry. Geoffrey's pace had quickened. The sound of the footsteps was

decreasing. Harry hurried forward. Through blackened gloom, he caught other sounds, like voices engaged in

He lost the sound of Geoffrey's footsteps; then paused. Edging in from the curb, he thrust his hand through

No sounds of footsteps. Harry knew the answer. Geoffrey Chiswold had stopped in front of this house in

Whitechapel. There was no noise ahead; that tread from across the street had ended. All that Harry could hear

for the moment was the semblance of a sound in back of him, like a low, whispered hiss in the blackened fog.

THEN, before Harry could turn or answer, a buzz began ahead. Voices snarled; there was a protesting cry;

then a wild, shrill scream that rent the fogfilled atmosphere. A responding shout broke automatically from

The Shadow's agent sprang forward on the instant. He knew the author of that scream, the reason for its

utterance. Geoffrey Chiswold had met with disaster at the hands of lurkers in the fog. The shriek that he had

Here, upon this squalid street in Whitechapel, in front of an obscure and crumbly East End house, murder was

being done. To Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow, belonged the duty of driving off those attackers who

IN his forward spring, Harry Vincent came suddenly into light. Like an oblong shaft that cleaved the solid

darkness, the glow stretched from the rectangular opening of a doorway in the house itself. Beginning from a

lighted hallway, the rays produced a square upon both the sidewalk and a short flight of steps that led into the

Half a dozen roughclad thugs had fallen upon a lone opponent. Some had sprung up from darkness; others

had plunged out through the doorway. In the center of that vicious throng was Geoffrey Chiswold.

As Harry leaped upon the group, the whole mass shifted to meet him; not face to face, but sidewise, lurched

through some fierce impetus from the opposite direction. Harry's mind caught an instant flash: Geoffrey, in

his struggle, must have hurled off some attackers. Then Harry had no time for other impressions.

A sprawling hoodlum twisted toward The Shadow's agent. With a mad yell, the rogue flashed a knife blade

that was dripping crimson. Harry swung a sidewise stroke that sent the fellow against the house wall. Then he

The whole surge carried Harry with it. Thrust backward, Harry saw four blades above him. Then, into the

twisting throng came a driving battler, who arrived within three seconds following Harry's spontaneous

IT was The Shadow. From beneath his cape, he had whipped an automatic; but he was not using the weapon

as a firearm. Instead, he was delivering hard sweeps with his gun hand, while he used his other fist to pluck

With one hard jolt of his shoulder, The Shadow propelled Harry toward the curb, clearing his agent from the

midst of battle. He wanted none but enemies about him; and his flaying fist sent ruffians scudding. Harry,

stumbling as he reached the curb, managed to turn about in time to see this outcome.

The Shadow had met the heaving mass of fighters and had actually pitched the tribe back to the steps from

which the lunge had begun. Then, with his plucking, swinging method, he had sent ruffians rolling

One wild battler alone had gripped The Shadow. Upon the lowermost step, they formed a tableau. The

Shadow's free hand held the ruffian's wrist, to withhold the knife stroke. In turn, the foeman was clutching at

With a twist, the pair whirled away. Harry, coming in to aid, saw them clear his path. Rogues, coming to their

feet, were ready to again wield knives; but they had no opportunity. The Shadow's .45 began to blast.

He was firing despite the man who clutched him, speeding bullets during the mad whirl. Like a turning turret,

One rogue spat an outcry as a bullet clipped him. Another shouted a mad warning as a slug singed past his

ear. Then, abandoning the foolhardy ruffian who was wrestling with The Shadow, the rogues took to their

All this had happened in quick, amazing seconds. Harry Vincent, rallying, had first tried to aid The Shadow;

then had gone toward free attackers only to see them scud like rats. He made a turn to come back toward The

To reach them, Harry's best course was to clamber over the steps themselves. He wheeled to do so; then

stopped short. Before him, blocking his view of The Shadow's struggle, was a new adversary whom he had

A DARKFACED man was crouched upon the steps. He had been in the midst of that murderous group,

obscured at the moment when Harry had driven into the fray. He was rising from his position and his glare

This last challenger looked like a Hindu, though not attired in Oriental garb. Harry had mistaken him for one

of the Whitechapel ruffians, for he had not seen the man's dark face until this instant. Nor had he guessed at

the man's titanic size. The fighter on the steps was rising; he loomed like a giant, towering above.

It was Amakar, the Afghan, huge and menacing; the very sight brought a gasp from Harry's lips. But with

Amakar's rise came another view. The Afghan, rearing up from his halfseated posture had revealed another

To Harry's staring eyes came the answer that explained the bloodstained knives. Geoffrey, lengthwise on the

steps, was lifeless. His shirt front was dyed red. Projecting from above his heart was the handle of a dirk. One

Amakar, in rising, had pressed his upper hand upon the stone step by Geoffrey's motionless shoulder. The

Afghan's huge fingers were but inches distant from the knife itself. They possessed the strength required to

Harry Vincent came to double action. To offset Amakar, he sprang forward, bounding up the step edge to

encounter the halfrisen giant. At the same time, he yanked his own automatic from his pocket. The only way

Amakar did not finish the rise. With a fierce cry in his native tongue, the darkfaced Afghan dived sidewise

from his crouch. His long arms, shooting forth like grappling hooks, were instantaneous in their action.

Bearing down from the steps like a toppling tower, Amakar caught Harry in his grip.

Harry had no chance to fire. His arm was trapped half lifted. Mammoth arms encircled him. As he went

rolling backward, pinned to helplessness, Harry felt those engirding arms hoist him clear of the sidewalk.

Harry Vincent cleared the curb in midair. He had reached the center of the narrow street when he struck,

Harry rolled over three times in quick succession before he finally stopped. Even then, it was the presence of

the opposite curb that halted him. Harry's head cracked the edge of the sidewalk with a jarring velocity.

HALF dazed, Harry tried to rise, his only thought to get back into the fray. Hemmed in by the fog, he could

see only that lighted stretch directly in front of the doorway across the street; against its background, he spied

the looming bulk of Amakar. The big man was turning; apparently looking for another prey.

To Harry's dazed senses came the trill of police whistles. The Shadow's shots; the flight of vanished thugs

both had been heard by constables in the district. Harry tried to rise and failed. His right shoulder sagged; his

As Harry made the effort, a muffled gunshot sounded from the haze. The direction of the report told Harry

that it must mean the finish of the fight that The Shadow was having with one lone assassin. Harry was right.

Amakar, too, had heard the sound. The big Afghan had located someone in the fog.

Harry saw Amakar leap past the steps. At the same instant, a figure charged forward to meet him. It was The

Shadow, hatless, his cape half torn from his shoulders. Despite his tallness, The Shadow looked pygmylike as

he plunged toward Amakar. His lithe form looked slender enough for the Afghan to break in two.

A wreath of smoke was curling from above The Shadow's hand. The coil came from his automatic, its curling

twist blended with the murkiness of the fog. Then Amakar met the advancing figure. Harry saw The

Amakar had plucked The Shadow's gun hand while it was on the aim. He had gained the same advantage that

he had with Harry. The Afghan's gripping arms surrounded Harry's chief. The Shadow's body was hoisted

Harry's own gun was gone. It had spilled far from his hand during his long pitch. Helplessly, Harry could

only watch; he saw The Shadow whirling like a straw puppet as Amakar prepared to fling him against the

Whistles were shrilling close by at both ends of the street. Would the law arrive before Amakar could crush

Hoarsely, Harry shouted for aid, hoping to bring the officers in his direction. Answering whistles sounded;

yet they seemed far away. All the while, Harry stared; to his amazement, The Shadow did not hurtle on a

headlong trip into space. Instead, he was clutching Amakar, choking the Afghan's throat with agile fingers

while the big man vainly sought to heave his tenacious adversary to the house wall.

Pounding feet upon the pavement. Shouts from arriving officers. Harry gave an answering cry. At the same

moment both The Shadow and Amakar roused to fuller effort. The big Afghan jolted his shoulders upward.

His head went back as The Shadow's clutch tightened. Then the two went sprawling sidewise, to slump at the

Amakar's great bulk obscured The Shadow. For an instant, Harry thought that his chief had been crushed by

the side of Geoffrey Chiswold's body. Then came the finale; so surprising that it seemed to be a move by

The Afghan rolled sidewise toward the edge of the steps; then his body snapped upward and performed a

tremendous somersault. Like an acrobat missing his cue, the big Oriental landed thwack upon the sidewalk,

THE SHADOW had gained a jujutsu hold. He had thrown all his strength into a scientific twist. His stroke

had hoisted Amakar headforemost into such a sudden dive that the Afghan had turned completely over.

The Shadow, too, had lost his balance in the finish of the flip. Carried by his own impetus, he sprawled from

Amakar was rising; The Shadow likewise. Six paces apart, they had a chance to come to grips again. It was

Amakar who passed up a renewal of the duel. The reason for the Afghan's action was the sudden appearance

of a helmeted officer who came jogging into the circle of light from out of the fog

The bobby was beyond the steps; he was swinging a truncheon with his right hand while his left pressed a

whistle to his lips. He halted momentarily at the sight of Amakar. The Afghan heard the whistle's blast and

whirled about. Before The Shadow could leap forward to restrain him, Amakar had plunged into the mist.

Heavy footsteps beat a hard tattoo. Others sounded, coming toward them. There was a shout; a hoarse roar

from Amakar; then the Afghan's pace was resumed, while a clattering sound reechoed in his wake. Amakar

had encountered another bobby in the fog. He had sprawled the officer and was keeping on his way.

Harry saw The Shadow settle back beside the steps. For a moment, he thought that his chief had been worsted

in the fight; that he could not have resumed the fray with Amakar. Then, as he himself crawled laboriously

forward, Harry realized that The Shadow's action was a bluff for the bobby's benefit.

Pursuit of Amakar was useless; for the fellow had made a timely flight. The Shadow could only remain and

tell his story, along with Harry's. Both would describe the struggle in the fog; with their chance arrival that

For the sprawled man upon the steps had never budged since Harry had first spied his prone form. Death had

been swift, hard given upon the sound of his first outcry. Geoffrey Chiswold was dead; his assassins, like

LATE the next afternoon, two passengers alighted from a branch line train of the London and Northeastern

The name of the station was Yarwick; and the train was losing no time to move away from it. The engineer

seemed to begrudge the halt that he had made. The guard, peering from the rear window of the final carriage

was looking back curiously when the train took the bend. A passenger let off at Yarwick was a rarity indeed.

One of the two who had alighted at Yarwick was The Shadow, still in the guise of Lamont Cranston. The

other was a keeneyed, sharpfaced man, whose gaze roamed everywhere. He was Inspector Eric Delka,

A onehorse carriage had creaked up to the station. The coachman who held the reins was eyeing the two

potential customers. Even the wornout steed that drew the rickety victoria looked hopeful as it turned its

head toward the platform. The rig looked like a specter from the past; a coach that had met trains before the

The coachman clucked to attract attention. Then, as Delka looked his way, he spoke in crackly, plaintive

"Carry you to the old Prince William Inn?" he queried. "A shilling apiece, your worships, and the luggage

"We do not want the inn," said the Scotland Yard man. "Our destination is Chiswold Castle. Do you know the

"Chiswold Castle!" croaked the driver, turning about in his seat. "'Tis nigh a half league from here, your

"The price is suitable. Take us to the castle." Together The Shadow and Delka embarked.

THE driver lashed with the reins. The creaky victoria rumbled toward the town of Yarwick. A quarter of a

mile produced a sleepy village, with a small tavern that carried a weatherbeaten sign showing the likeness of

"A historic place, Yarwick," he told The Shadow. "In the seventeenth century, it was a meeting spot for

Jacobites. That was when the inn took on its name. The proprietor was anxious that the authorities should

"They were strong Jacobites, particularly in the time of Bonnie Prince Charley. They supported the

pretender's claim; and legend states that Prince Charley stayed at times within the castle. That, however, is

doubtful. It is more likely that the only visitor was the faithful Ned Burke, the servant who stood so close to

"But we have talked enough of the past, Mr. Cranston. Let me ask you a question that concerns the present."

"Some time ago," recalled Delka, "you were present in London at the time when we were troubled by a

notorious rogue known as The Harvester. (Note: See The Shadow Magazine, "The London Crimes," Vol.

XV, No. 2.) You were instrumental in the exposure of that dangerous criminal. Am I right in assuming that

"I believe I understand. Another question, Mr. Cranston. Last night, you and a friend happened to arrive in

Whitechapel too late to save young Geoffrey Chiswold from death. Am I correct again in assuming that it

"I thought as much," remarked the C.I.D. man. "That is why I saw to it that you and Vincent were relieved

"Vincent needed rest and medical attention. He was badly bruised during the fray."

"Also," he reminded, "I asked you to visit Chiswold Castle with me. But before we enter, I should like to

"I have formed no full opinion," returned The Shadow, in the quiet tone of Cranston. "Last night, I chanced to

learn that Geoffrey Chiswold was walking to the London docks. Having met the young man at the Acropolis

Club, I felt some responsibility for him. It is not always healthy to venture too near the Thames, alone and

"Vincent and I followed after Geoffrey," resumed The Shadow. "He started at Liverpool Street; we traced

"Young Chiswold probably lost himself in the fog," Delka said. "A pea souper throws a man off course in

"Perhaps you are right," said The Shadow. "However, Geoffrey was attacked and murdered. The question,

"We may find out when we reach Chiswold Castle," decided Delka. "Here is the proposition. Geoffrey

Chiswold gained money by the sale of his castle. He was close to debt when he did so. Apparently, he saw no

"Therefore, his death was due to chance; unless we can learn that he had enemies. If such were the case, those

of the castle would know of it. Or there might still be personal effects letters, perhaps which would give

"He had none in England," replied Delka. "All are dead, except his cousin Nigel, who went to India and

"Geoffrey Chiswold had no remaining estate after he sold the castle. None except the money that he received

from Barton Modbury and most of that was spent. Less than a thousand pounds remain to Geoffrey's bank

"No. Unless we find direct proof that Geoffrey Chiswold had enemies, I shall investigate no further. I doubt

that Modbury can tell us much; for he has known young Chiswold but a short while. Visitors at the castle,

"Friends who knew Geoffrey Chiswold. One is Sir Rodney Ralthorn, who has firm hold upon one corner of

the beetsugar industry. His daughter, the Honorable Gwendolyn Ralthorn, is another guest at Chiswold

"Also, her fiance, Lord Cedric Lorthing, who is a wealthy Londoner. The last of the guests is a Spaniard,

Francisco Lodera. Although he has no title, Lodera belongs to a family that held high rating during the days

A brief pause while the carriage rounded a wooded stretch; then took a straight road through the glade.

"Quite well," replied Delka. "He has a retinue of half a dozen servants, in addition to his secretary, a man

DELKA paused. The carriage had rolled suddenly from the trees. It was skirting a level stretch of cleared

land. Beside the field, a tiny white cottage nestled against the green trees; while in the center of the broad

"Lodera's plane," remarked Delka. "A swift one. That must be his pilot, standing beside it. The pilot's name is

Another stretch of woods. The carriage came to a spot where the trees opened at the left. A tang of sea breeze

was apparent. Delka pointed to a rocky gulch that curved its way between craggy walls of cliff. Blue water

"Castle Cove," said Delka. "I saw it marked on the map. That crag far beyond is Parrion Head. A few miles

along the coast lies DarbanonSea, which used to be a popular resort along the drier side."

The Shadow smiled at the reference. This eastern section of England, served by the L.N.E. Railway, was

commonly termed the "drier side," due to its greater prevalence of fair weather.

Trees again. The old victoria was swinging a long circle that tended directly toward the coast. A mile would

have carried to the shore; but the trip was interrupted in less than half that distance. The carriage clattered to a

The road had twisted full about. The Shadow and Eric Delka were coming in by the front gate that led to

"Hello, Jeremy," greeted the driver of the carriage, as a stoopshouldered man hobbled from a gatekeeper's

"Welcome to you, sirs," acknowledged Jeremy, tugging the gate inward. "Drive to the castle, itself."

BENEATH spreading trees; past shady nooks; finally the carriage rolled out into the final opening. There,

framed gray and solemn against the setting sun stood Chiswold Castle, a massive bulk of masonry that looked

Centuries had mellowed the edifice, taking away its prisonlike appearance. Lower windows were grated

throughout the ground floor; but ivy vines had entwined about the edges, to produce a pleasant, welcoming

The corners of the castle were rounded and topped by stone bulwarks; but these portions of the building

afforded the most pleasant views. Their windows showed that the rooms within must gain their full share of

In front of the castle, where a moat had once been, was a stretch of stone porch, with short steps leading to it.

Back of the porch was a massive door; above it, an ironrailed balcony that paralleled the steps below. Broad

One oddity alone stood out. This was a single turret that rose higher than the third story of the castle. The

turret was thin; it was set off center, for it began at the left edge of the central wall wherein the door was set.

The turret had no windows; merely slits that appeared just below the circling rampart which served it as a

That turret was as useless as the forgotten moat. Once it could have served as an archer's tower. Now it was

Shade enveloped the carriage as it rolled up to the portal of Chiswold Castle. Gloom enclosed about the

visitors, for the building blocked the rays of the setting sun. There was something somber about the

The Shadow did not feel the same sensation. Instead, the smile reappeared upon his lips. This was an

atmosphere of mystery that carried the touch of darkness. Such elements were to The Shadow's liking.

THE door of the castle opened as the carriage arrived before the porch. A bulky servant studied the victoria;

then turned and spoke to someone within. A long limbed man with spectacles stalked out on to the porch,

"Good afternoon," he said, in a brisk voice. "Are you visitors to see Mr. Modbury?"

"My name is Delka," informed Delka. "Inspector from Scotland Yard. This is Mr. Lamont Cranston. He came

The query boomed in a bass voice from the doorway as a heavy set, baldheaded man stepped into view. This

"Visitors, Mr. Modbury," replied the spectacled man. "Inspector Delka from Scotland Yard, and Mr. Lamont

"I've read about both of you," rumbled Modbury, picking Delka and The Shadow, in turn. "The London

newspapers arrived two hours ago. Told all about that affair in Whitechapel. Dark news to us, it was.

"You mean my guests?" returned Modbury. "No. They have not been about since luncheon. Sir Rodney

Ralthorn and Lord Cedric Lorthing are hunting grouse. Gwendolyn Ralthorn and Senor Lodera are at the

Modbury turned to the servant who was standing at the door. The man went back into the castle and

reappeared with a stack of deck chairs. He set them upon the porch; Modbury invited his new visitors to be

They had hardly taken their chairs before the sound of voices came from close by. A blondehaired girl in

tennis clothes appeared from a corner of the castle, followed by a tall, slender man who was carrying tennis

The men on the porch arose. Barton Modbury was prompt in his introductions. He presented Delka and

GWENDOLYN RALTHORN was a girl who possessed a naive charm. Her attractive face lighted when she

heard that Delka was from Scotland Yard. Her blue eyes enlarged with enthusiasm. Apparently, she linked

The Shadow saw a different reaction on the part of Francisco Lodera. A frown appeared upon his sallow face.

The Spaniard's dark eyes narrowed; The Shadow saw him dart a glance past Barton Modbury, who was

The only possible recipient of that glance was Luval, the secretary. The Shadow saw the spectacled man look

quickly to see if Modbury was watching; then Luval made a motion of his hand that Lodera detected.

Neither Modbury nor Delka noticed the move. Only The Shadow saw. Lodera's response was a friendly smile

that proved his immediate relief. Then, as he heard what Delka was saying, Lodera drew closer and his face

"It was murder." Delka was soberly referring to the death of Geoffrey Chiswold. "Foolhardy, indeed, for him

to have ventured into Whitechapel in a thick fog. Prowlers had been about in many parts of the city "

"Poor Jeff," choked Gwendolyn. "He was so likable. I have met him frequently in London. It was through

"I know," nodded Modbury. Then, to Delka: "Tell me, Inspector, does there appear to be some enmity behind

"That is what I wish to learn," replied Delka. "You saw Chiswold recently, Mr. Modbury. Did he ever speak

"I have talked with his creditors," acknowledged Delka. "They could not help me. Nor could members at his

club. He seldom talked of personal matters. I wanted to meet those who were close friends to him."

"He was a real friend to father and myself," announced Gwendolyn. "We thought that everyone liked Jeff.

"I do not recall meeting Geoffrey Chiswold," he replied. "In fact, I scarcely ever heard his name mentioned

"Don't you remember meeting Jeff?" exclaimed Gwendolyn. "Twice in London. Once right here "

LODERA chewed his lips. It was Luval who came to his rescue. The bespectacled secretary was quick and

"I do not believe that you introduced Mr. Chiswold to Senor Lodera," he reminded Modbury. "Therefore, it is

Lodera smiled suavely. The Shadow saw him flash a glance of thanks to Luval. The secretary's statement

"That was deuced stupid of me," stated the deepvoiced man. "I recall it, now that you have mentioned the

"And so they had!" injected Gwendolyn. "Surely, you must remember it, Francisco! Once at Lady Allerton's

"Please, Gwendolyn," protested Lodera. His tone sounded pleading. "I knew of Chiswold, certainly. I did

regard him as a friend. His unfortunate death distresses me. Probably, I have met him. I begin to place the

man, now that the occasions have been enumerated. But I knew nothing about his business, save that he sold

"That is all I need to know," declared Delka. Lodera's sudden appeal had sounded genuine. The Spaniard

actually looked distressed. "I should like, however, to make inquiry of Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric."

"Which you may do," promised Modbury, "as soon as they have returned. Meanwhile, I shall expect you and

Mr. Cranston to remain here for dinner. You are also quite welcome to stay overnight, if you so desire."

IT was dinner time when Sir Rodney Ralthorn and Lord Cedric Lorthing came in from hunting.

The news of Geoffrey Chiswold's demise came as a shock to both Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric. When Delka

asked them about the dead man, the two agreed immediately that Geoffrey had lacked enemies.

"Preposterous!" was Sir Rodney's opinion. Tall, redfaced, with gray hair and side whiskers, he looked

emphatic when he gave it. "That young man had no enemies. His one fault was that he sometimes proved

himself a gadfly. A lightweight, when judged by brain capacity. But a gentleman, always, and well liked."

"Quite so. Quite so." Lord Cedric drawled approval. He was a middleaged, longfaced man, who wore a

"Apparently so," boomed Modbury, "but in a case like this, no stone should remain unturned. When Geoffrey

Chiswold left here, I told him that I would keep some trunks that contained his personal effects. Perhaps there

"In one of the rooms upstairs," stated Modbury. "I shall have Luval go through them thoroughly with you.

Moreover, it might be well to look elsewhere, in some of the rooms which have not yet been refurnished."

"I shall have Mund show us about, sir," put in Luval. "He knows every portion of this old castle."

"Mund is one of the former servants," explained Modbury. "Very well, Luval. How long should it take?"

"That means we cannot catch the early train," said the man from Scotland Yard. "At least I cannot. You will

"I must go back to London," stated The Shadow. "In fact" he glanced at his watch "I must leave shortly

"No, no," returned The Shadow. "There will be moonlight tonight. I would prefer to walk. I noticed shortcuts

"Very well," smiled Modbury. "It is not more than a few miles. I think you will find the walk a pleasant one."

"You must stay long enough, however, to glance about the ground floor and see some of the furniture that I

THEY adjourned to a great room across the spacious hall. Here a crackly fire threw its light and drew the

slight chill from the musty walls. The Shadow admired the furniture of which Modbury had spoken.

"These have added to the older furniture that was already in the castle," explained Modbury. "Later, I shall

install a grand piano. That will help to reduce the mammoth proportions of this room. But I see that the time

is passing. It would be best for you to start your walk to the station, unless you will alter your decision and

"I have made up my mind to walk," declared The Shadow. "I must thank you for your hospitality, Mr.

Delka had gone with Luval to make his thorough check on all of Geoffrey Chiswold's remaining effects. The

Shadow said goodbye to the others; and a servant ushered him to the door. The moon had risen; its silver

Strolling down the driveway, The Shadow reached the fringe of the woods. There, he paused just beneath the

trees to look back toward the vast building. Gray walls held a sheen tonight; a veritable reflection of the

Quiet persisted, except for the faint murmur from the sea. Waves rolling against the English coast; a reminder

of the days when bold boatmen had brought the young pretender and his followers to these shores.

The Shadow stepped farther beneath the trees. The distant tone of breakers faded. Instead, a sinister whisper

Circling, The Shadow came from the woods near a corner of the castle. He approached the porch. There,

The coachman had left it, along with Delka's. But The Shadow had placed his own grip to one side, before

following the others into the house. No servant had spied it. Thus The Shadow had regained it from its niche

Back toward the woods. There, stooping, The Shadow opened the bag. From it, he produced cloak and hat of

black. Obscuring garments enshrouded his head and shoulders. Garbed in this attire, The Shadow could move

abroad tonight. Here, perhaps, he would find clues clues that he would prefer to trace alone.

WHEN Delka arrived outside two hours later, he paused to say goodbye to Barton Modbury. A servant was

carrying Delka's bag, to place it in the car. Delka had forgotten about The Shadow's piece of luggage.

Both Delka and Modbury expressed themselves upon one point; namely, that the search through Geoffrey

Chiswold's trunks had produced no documents of importance. That fact served as final proof that murder

Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric were also present; but both Lodera and Luval were within the castle. Delka

stepped aboard the car; it headed back toward Yarwick. When the purr of the motor faded, only the faint

sound of the sea remained. The door of the castle had closed; the men on the porch had gone inside.

Then, again, came the whispered laugh. Closer so close that it was almost from the porch itself. After that,

a streak of blackness moved scarcely visible toward the front trees between the house and the lodge

AT about the time when The Shadow was observing Eric Delka's departure from Chiswold Castle, the

evening down train had pulled into the little station of Yarwick. Singularly enough, the branch line local had

The local cabby with the old victoria was waiting by the station. His luck during the afternoon had brightened

him. The arrival of another fare upon the evening train was something that he had not anticipated, yet which

At the coachman's conventional greeting, the arrival turned about beneath the dingy glow of a platform light.

For the first time, the coach driver discerned him clearly. He gripped the reins and stared.

Viewed from the back, the passenger had made a huddled figure, for his shoulders had held a definite stoop.

When he turned, he produced a muffled sight, for the collar of his old overcoat was turned high above his

chin, while the brim of his battered felt hat pointed almost perpendicularly downward.

He was making an effort to hide his face; yet the driver of the victoria spied it, thanks to the angle of the light.

The features that he saw were waxlike; broad, yet expressionless, with lips that held a fixed position.

THE man on the platform must have noticed the coach driver's start, for he hastily closed the front of his coat

collar with one gloved hand. When he spoke, his voice was gruff; it was also muffled deeply within the

"Take me to the inn," he ordered, approaching the victoria. "To the Prince William Inn."

"A shilling's the fare," announced the driver, dubious about this oddlooking customer, "and the luggage goes

He stepped aboard the old carriage. The driver clucked to the horse and the rubbertired wheels jounced over

the ruts of the old station road. They rolled through darkness; the coachman urged his horse to greater speed.

The dim lights of the little town came as a relief to the old coachman. He slackened his tiring horse and drew

up in front of the Prince William Inn. When he did so, he nervily chose a spot close by one of the few lamp

posts; then turned about to announce the destination. It was then that he saw the passenger's face again.

It no longer looked like wax. It was more like parchment, smooth and fixed. The eyelids appeared to be the

only live portion of the rider's countenance. From beneath them, the coach driver caught a sharp, questioning

The passenger grunted something; then alighted from the victoria. He handed the driver a shilling and a

sixpence for a tip. He managed the matter clumsily, for his hands were still gloved. Then, turning on his heel,

THE Prince William Inn boasted a main room that might once have been occupied by its royal namesake, for

the place looked to be three hundred years old. It was illuminated by kerosene lamps, plus a sparkling log

flame in the grate. One corner formed a sort of desk; by that counter was a doorway that led into a small

The proprietor, a man with a heavy black mustache, was behind the desk when the muffled guest approached.

He eyed the stranger suspiciously; then brought a lamp from a ledge beside him and placed it upon the

"How much are your rooms?" he inquired, gruffly, holding his coat collar more tightly to his chin. "By the

"Two and six the night, sir," responded the proprietor. "Twelve and six by the week. A guinea for a fortnight

He drew a crumpled tenshilling note from his pocket and thrust it across the counter. Then, clumsy with his

gloved hand, he produced some silver and clattered a half crown in front of the proprietor. This coin, the

As the guest spoke, his collar slipped slightly. The proprietor, for the first time, gained a fair view of his

visage. The mustached innkeeper drew his breath with a sharp whistle. Then, as the guest moved toward a

There was a registration book upon the desk; but the stranger had not signed. Nor did the proprietor care to

press the matter upon this occasion. The face that he had seen might have been a plaster death mask, with

Taking a pair of candlesticks from a corner of the counter, the proprietor lighted the wicks and led the way

upstairs. The stranger followed him; the proprietor nudged open a door that stood ajar and placed the candles

upon the mantel of a small room. He turned about and saw the guest staring toward the window. Gingerly, the

Leaving the room, the proprietor closed the door behind him, then moved slowly toward the stairs.

Immediately, he heard the click of a key in the lock. The new guest apparently did not wish to be disturbed.

THE proprietor was nervous when he reached the desk. He heard voices from the barroom and went in there,

anxious for company. By the bar, he saw the coachman who had driven the victoria. The fellow was holding

"'Twas a great day," he was bragging. Then, seeing the proprietor, "Aye, a great day, Mr. Mullock. Comes

two passengers to Yarwick platform and asks to be carried to Chiswold Castle. A crown is the cost, says I,

"'Twere different tonight," he confided. "'Twas only one fare that I brought from Yarwick platform. Not like

The sound of a stopping motor came from outside the inn. A big Humber had halted; its chauffeur, a stocky

man, was peering in at the door. Mullock and Chauncey recognized him as one of the new retinue at

"When does the up train depart?" asked the chauffeur. "I have a gentleman here for Yarwick platform. He has

"One up train has gone," informed Chauncey. "'Tis an hour yet before the last will call at Yarwick platform."

Another man had appeared at the door. It was Eric Delka, in time to hear the coachman's statement. Delka

"Ride back to the castle," said Delka. "There is no need for you to wait. I can use this man's victoria to reach

The chauffeur nodded and departed. Delka strolled past the bar and saw the door into the main room. He was

"The face of the man upstairs," queried the proprietor, in an anxious tone. "You saw it, Chauncey?"

"Aye," nodded the coachman, gripping the mug handle as he spoke. "Aye. Nor was it human; unless 'twas the

"I saw the face, too," remarked the innkeeper in an awed tone. "It might have been wax, or plaster."

"'Twas like parchment," protested the coachman. "Save for the color of it. The cheeks were ruddy; the lips

"Nay. Nor could I see them. 'Twas close about his chin that he kept the collar of his coat."

Mullock raised his hands for silence. Footsteps were coming from the stairs, a steady, descending beat.

Chauncey sifted along the bar and gripped his mug more tightly. Nervously, he began to gulp his ale.

Mullock withdrew. The barmaid looked frightened. Delka, fully stirred by these odd actions, decided to wait

where he was. He edged back from the door. He heard the approach of footsteps; then saw the man who had

THE new guest was still wearing his hat and coat. From the position that he took in the doorway, he faced

Mullock, Chauncey and the barmaid; and kept his features well hidden. He must have felt searching eyes

"I am going out to view the moonlight." The stranger spoke mechanically. "I shall return presently."

Delka, from his point of observation, caught a better glimpse of the man's face than did the others.

Remembering their statements, the Scotland Yard man was able to note the parchmentlike features, from the

Turning about, the mysterious guest stalked out through the main room. They heard the front door close; then

"'Tis a ghoul, he is!" breathed Chauncey. The coachman's hand was trembling. "A werewolf that seeks the

moonlight. If we hear strange howls on this night, 'twill be the foul fiend in him "

The barmaid uttered a half shriek. Mullock tremblingly moved forward and gripped Chauncey's arm.

"Have you a room for the night?" queried the Scotland Yard man. "I believe that I shall not go up to London.

The innkeeper looked grateful. The barmaid suppressed another shriek. Chauncey stared; then let his mug

jounce empty from his hand. He watched Delka go with Mullock into the large room. Then, with an air of

"'Tis a fine gentleman," he affirmed. "This one comes from London. 'Twas he that I took to Chiswold Castle,

DELKA did not hear the approval. He was making his arrangements for the night. He signed the register.

Mullock carried his bag upstairs, holding one lighted candle while Delka carried another. Delka saw the

proprietor glance anxiously at a closed door; they passed it and came to another across the hall.

This was to be Delka's room; and the C.I.D. man knew that the other guest must be occupying the one where

the innkeeper had shown anxiousness. Delka waited until Mullock had gone; then he snuffed out the candles

From this seat, Eric Delka could see the front street outside the inn. He watched Chauncey come from the

barroom and drive away in his clattery victoria. Silence lay outside the Prince William Inn.

Dim lamps still laid a glow beneath unstirring trees. Beyond, where branches thinned, patches of moonlight

BACK at Chiswold Castle, the last light had blinked out shortly after the return of the big Humber landaulet.

The chauffeur had driven the automobile into an ancient stable off from the castle; then a light had appeared

in upstairs quarters above the improvised garage. Soon after, that light had been extinguished.

Moonlight still remained, and its mellow glow showed a rising shape that came from a narrow fringe of trees

behind the castle. There, The Shadow had delved among the craglike rocks that topped the gorge called

Castle Cove. He had returned toward the castle when he had heard the car return.

Moving between the castle and the stable, The Shadow followed a circling, wellplanned course. He was

keeping his tall figure inconspicuous, against the background of shadowy trees. There were spaces, however,

where he was forced to come into the open. At those stretches, his glide became more rapid.

Nearing the front corner of the castle, The Shadow came to a sudden pause. He had caught a sound from

above: the swinging clatter of a casement window. Halted, The Shadow became a blackened statue in the

Someone was at the second story, looking downward. Someone whom The Shadow could not discern. That

person, however, had gained an opportunity to spy the blackened figure on the lawn. The Shadow had

stopped because he knew that a moving shape would more probably attract attention than a stilled one.

Behind The Shadow, away from the castle, was the protecting shade of a large tree. Slowly, almost

imperceptibly, he began a backward course. He was sure that eyes were watching him; that some wondering

observer could not quite identify his shape as a human one. Hence The Shadow was deliberate in motion.

Branches, stirred by a slight sea breeze, were flickering their shaded mass upon the moonlighted turf. The

Shadow, too, was wavering. His own shadow formed a blackened streak that extended forward from his

figure. The staring person from the secondfloor window would have difficulty in determining whether or

Then, when The Shadow had eased back into shelter, all chance was ended. His own shadow withdrew a bit

more rapidly, until it was blended with the streaky darkness from the boughs. Gliding deeper into blackness,

Keeping to new patches of blackness, The Shadow rounded the front of the castle and held close to trees and

shrubbery that formed a helpful line. He was nearing the woods about the front drive when he came to

The new reason for a halt was the bobbing of a lantern that came from between the castle and stable. The

OBSCURED by darkness, The Shadow waited. The light drew nearer. By the lantern's glow, The Shadow

recognized old Jeremy. The gatekeeper was carrying the lantern in his left hand; over the crook of his right

elbow, he held an ancient fowling piece that looked like the modern replica of a blunderbuss.

The Shadow waited until Jeremy had passed; then followed. The gatekeeper kept on until he reached his

lodge. The Shadow saw the lantern bob from view. He spied a gloomy window and approached it, to look

into the main downstairs room of the gate lodge. Thanks to a broken, unpatched pane, The Shadow could

Jeremy's wife had been seated by the firelight. Jeremy, entering, had kept the lantern lighted. He was placing

it upon a table when The Shadow observed him. Holding close to the window, The Shadow saw Jeremy

"Ill news, good wife," announced the gatekeeper, in a sorrowful tone. "'Twas in the castle that I heard it, from

"Aye," nodded Jeremy. "Ill news from London town. Our good master, Geoffrey, was done to death last

"'Twas on his account that the gentlemen came down from London," concluded Jeremy. "Friends they were

"Nay. 'Twas bad men who roam through London that did the evil. They fell upon poor Master Geoffrey,

"'Twas good to us he was, young Master Geoffrey." The woman arose and took the lantern from the table.

"Ah! 'Tis an ill world, Jeremy. May naught come to hurt the new master at the great castle. 'Tis he that we

"Mayhap if Master Geoffrey had held more money, he could have done better with us," observed the old

gatekeeper. "'Twas kindness alone that he could give. 'Twould be a sin, Katrine, to think less of him than our

The woman had started up the stairs, leaving old Jeremy mumbling and shaking his head. It was obvious that

the bad news had hurt him more deeply. That was natural, for the gatekeeper was in closer touch with matters

The firelight showed old Jeremy seated with bowed head, puffing his pipe in disconsolate fashion. So deep

was he in meditation that a new sound did not at first attract his attention. The Shadow heard the noise before

JEREMY heard it at last. Watching from the side window, The Shadow saw the gatekeeper arouse himself

and look toward the fowling piece. Then, disregarding the old gun, Jeremy went to the door and opened it. A

The newcomer was muffled, coat collar high and hat pressed low. His eyes sparkled in the dim light; but his

face was difficult to see. As he stepped toward the fire, The Shadow caught an earlier glimpse than Jeremy.

The stranger's face was lifeless, almost waxen. His lips did not move when he mumbled a greeting; and gave

the excuse of being cold, as a pretext to step past Jeremy and approach the fire. The late visitor to the

gatekeeper's abode was the mysterious man who had recently left the old Prince William inn.

Jeremy followed the man and watched him peel off his brown kid gloves. The gatekeeper became suddenly

suspicious. He reached for the fowling piece. The man at the fireplace stepped back and saw the action. He

hissed for caution; the order made Jeremy act more stubbornly. The gatekeeper yanked up the gun.

As counter move, the man by the fireplace threw back his coat collar and whipped away his hat. Seeing the

solidified features for the first time, Jeremy became more antagonistic. He thrust his finger to the trigger of

The man by the fireplace had pressed both hands to his cheeks; then dropping them, he had carried away his

face! In place of that mask that he had worn, he revealed pallid features that Jeremy recognized. Dropping his

Another hiss for caution. The man at the fireplace stepped toward Jeremy. The gatekeeper tried to back away.

"Nay! Nay!" gasped Jeremy. "'Tis no ill that I have spoken! Nay! Do not haunt me! May your spirit rest "

HANDS clutched Jeremy's arm. The gatekeeper's face became distorted. He thought that he was viewing a

ghost; he expected a clammy, unearthly touch. Instead, this man whom he took for Geoffrey Chiswold was

"'Tis alive!" panted Jeremy. "'Tis Master Geoffrey, in living flesh! Dead, you were so they said "

The words were cold as they came from slowly moving lips. Once again, Jeremy trembled, for he was staring

at a whitish face. This was a ghost; he was sure a specter that had gained power to enter its forgotten corpse.

Too scared to even mutter, Jeremy sagged to his knees, his hands raised pleadingly. The Shadow, watching

steadily from the window, saw a smile appear upon the face of the man from the night.

The Shadow waited, never stirring. Strange though this scene might be, he had divined the outcome. He was

Again, the pallid man repeated his statement; and Jeremy's hands raised farther as they trembled. Then came

"Not Geoffrey," repeated the supposed ghost. "Look closely, Jeremy. You will remember me."

Thus encouraged, Jeremy arose. In the flicker of the firelight, he stared, still quivering. Then sheer

"'Tis the face the face of Master Geoffrey," stammered the gatekeeper. "'Tis the nose the eyes but "

"Yes," he affirmed. "I am Nigel Chiswold. I am back from India. I have come to find you, Jeremy, as one

"Master Nigel! And 'tis cold you be, and pale from it. Warm yourself by the hearth, sir. 'Tis a nip I can find

"Wait. Never mind that, Jeremy. No one must know that I am here. Do not go upstairs until I have left. You

would arouse your wife. Come! Sit beside the fire and hear what I have to tell you."

NIGEL sat down upon a threelegged stool and Jeremy chose a similar resting place. The gatekeeper

watched his visitor shed his coat and throw it beside his hat. He saw that Nigel was heavily clad, wearing a

"I have come here alone," declared Nigel, eyeing Jeremy carefully, "because I must avenge the murder of my

"Yes," nodded Nigel. "Geoffrey was murdered. Those who slew him may be here, in Chiswold Castle."

"Nay!" he objected. "'Tis an honorable man, is Master Modbury. Nor was he in London, last night. 'Twas a

"I said nothing of Modbury," put in Nigel, quickly. "There are others here beside him."

"Good people all. Folk who would do no ill to anyone. Nor have they come or gone "

"I understand. But you must listen, Jeremy. Geoffrey was killed by men in London. Someone dispatched

them to that work. Those who ordered them to slay whether one or many are to be held responsible.

"I did not know that you had learned about Geoffrey's death. That is why I came here as I did, thinking that

you would take me for Geoffrey, but not as his ghost. So you have learned, eh? At the castle, I suppose?"

"Upon no one," returned Jeremy. "So Master Modbury told me. Upon no one who sought Master Geoffrey's

Nigel smiled and looked relieved. Then his tone became shrewd as he began new argument.

"That is the story that would be told," he declared. "Perhaps it is true. Yet there is a chance that someone in

JEREMY pondered, puffing his clay pipe as he stared at the fire. The Shadow, watching Nigel's face, gained

a full explanation of varied circumstances. First, he knew how Harry Vincent had happened to lose Geoffrey's

trail; the agent had followed Nigel instead. Second, he had the answer to the strange puzzle of Geoffrey's

change in attire. Yet The Shadow had already anticipated these discoveries. Delka had mentioned Geoffrey's

A third point, however, was clear to The Shadow. He knew why Nigel Chiswold had become relieved when

Jeremy had attributed Geoffrey's death to persons unknown. Nigel had feared that his own name might have

As a trump card, Nigel had told of his meeting with Geoffrey, an encounter which The Shadow had already

pictured. The Shadow had thought it likely that Nigel would bob up. He had picked the gatekeeper's lodge as

the point of contact; and had followed Jeremy for that reason. Nigel's visit had taken place sooner than The

"I came to Yarwick." Nigel was speaking again. "I wore hat, coat and mask, when I stopped at the Prince

William Inn. I told them I would remain there for a week. That was in case I could not find a friend here.

"We owe it to Geoffrey," persisted Nigel, smoothly. "I, his cousin; you, his faithful gatekeeper. We must

learn all that goes on within Chiswold Castle. We must be sure that no guilty person is staying there."

Jeremy was nodding. Nigel's tone was convincing, and the gatekeeper was recalling that the castle harbored

"Where will you stay?" queried Jeremy. "The gamekeeper's cot, would it do? 'Tis but half a mile along the

path that leads from the castle drive. 'Tis the only place, for the cottage beside the distant field is taken. 'Tis

"I have heard of him. He belonged to Geoffrey's set. But never mind Lodera for the present. I shall not stay at

"There are secrets to the castle, Jeremy," he explained. "Secrets known to the Chiswolds alone. One is the old

"I know another means of entrance. The one used by the friends of Bonnie Prince Charley, when they came

by sea. The way that Ned Burke used. Through the chamber where there was space for a hundred men should

"Only Mund," replied Jeremy. "'Twas one by one they left, when money came hard with Master Geoffrey."

"Mund would have been the last," nodded Nigel. "He could not have found position elsewhere. Dull and

"Since you know nothing of the spy room," chuckled Nigel, "I doubt that Mund does. Well, Jeremy, I shall

depend upon you. I have food for a while" he patted the stuffed pockets of his coat "and when I need

"Yes. With blinks of a flashlight, at night. I shall let down a cord that I have with me, together with notes.

"'Twould be safe enough, Master Nigel. 'Tis my task to make the rounds at night."

"Good. And later, Jeremy, you may expect a visitor; I do not know what night he will arrive; but you will

"Take those clothes," he said, pointing to his hat and overcoat. "Hide them somewhere at once outside this

"And remember" his tone was low and emphatic "I trust in you. Breathe no word of this meeting. Tell no

JEREMY nodded firmly. Nigel studied him shrewdly; then clapped a friendly hand upon the gatekeeper's

shoulder. With that, Nigel turned and left the cottage. The Shadow heard him go along the driveway, through

The old gatekeeper was standing stolid, holding his clay pipe. Minutes passed; then Jeremy came to life. He

bundled the coat and hat and gingerly added the mask to them. He opened the door and tiptoed out into the

The Shadow moved to the corner of the lodge. He saw Jeremy moving toward the high picket fence that led

Jeremy stooped in a patch of moonlight. He moved about; then arose without the bundle and went back into

the lodge. The Shadow waited a few moments, then approached the spot where the gatekeeper had been. He

found the hat, coat and mask wedged deeply into an abandoned drain pipe that was almost obscured by

Carrying the bundle with him, The Shadow returned to the edge of the driveway and started toward the castle.

He stopped amid the trees, blinked a tiny flashlight and found his bag at a place where he had stowed it.

Taking the bag with the bundle, he continued, giving new blinks cautiously until he found the path that Nigel

He followed this course until he had gone nearly half a mile. Then he used the flashlight regularly until he

picked out an obscure building deep in the trees. It was the gamekeeper's cot; a tiny, oneroom structure. The

He found loose boards in the bare floor and pried them upward. Beneath them, The Shadow stowed his bag.

He slid off his cloak and slouch hat, to put those garments in the same hiding place. Then he used the

A WHISPERED laugh stirred strange echoes within the narrow walls. A slight sound followed; then the

flashlight blinked finally upon the barren boards. The bundle was gone; a huddled figure stalked from the

little cot. It turned along the path, taking a shortcut toward the town of Yarwick.

Moonlight from amid the trees showed a duplicate of the figure that had entered Jeremy's lodge. The glow

revealed the same expressionless face that Nigel Chiswold had worn, held in place by the same coat collar

The mask had changed. It was worn by a different person than the one who had first used it. The mystery man

But the stranger who returned would not be the one that had left. The Shadow had replaced Nigel Chiswold.

IT was morning. All was peaceful about the Prince William Inn, so far as external appearances were

concerned. But the three men who occupied the lobby room were holding secret thoughts of their own.

One was Mullock, the innkeeper; he was solemn behind his counter. The second was Chauncey, the

coachman. He was just within the door, toying with his whip, but anxious. The third, apparently the least

concerned, was Eric Delka. All were waiting the descent of the mysterious stranger.

Mullock had heard him come in late last night. Chauncey had only guessed that the stranger had returned. But

Delka had seen and heard. Watching from his front window, the C.I.D. man had once again observed the man

He had listened while the curious visitor had come upstairs and unlocked the door of his room. He had heard

him lock the door from within. Then Delka had napped until morning. He had come downstairs as early as

IN his upstairs room, The Shadow was seated before a mirror. Propped against the wall was Nigel Chiswold's

mask, a piece of workmanship that commanded admiration. Nigel had certainly bought it in London. Made of

a flexible composition, the false face formed an excellent replica of a human visage.

Except that it was lifeless. The mask maker had not prepared this device to serve the use to which Nigel had

put it. That was why Nigel had made every effort to cover his lips while speaking. A bad feature of his

Upon the table lay two objects. One was the key to the room. The Shadow had found it in the pocket of

Nigel's discarded overcoat; it had the door number, and because of that, The Shadow had experienced no

trouble in locating Nigel's room. The other object on the table was a small, flat box.

A portable makeup kit. One that The Shadow had expressly carried for this journey. He had opened it; his

nimble fingers were at work. They were kneading The Shadow's own visage, changing it from its former

Puttylike substance dabbed from finger tips. Grease paint was drawn from the box. Eyebrows changed their

shape. The Shadow's countenance took on an amazing change, yet a swift one. The final touches were slower,

A soft laugh from new lips. A slow, lifelike smile. A few more touches; The Shadow held the mask beside

his own countenance, to compare both as the mirror's range. The job was perfect.

The Shadow donned hat and overcoat; he tucked the mask out of sight, beneath his coat. Rising, he pocketed

the makeup kit; then unlocked the door of his room and went downstairs. Solemn of expression, he pulled

Delka's presence was a surprise to The Shadow. One that thrust him into a campaign of strategy. He had

suspected that persons at the inn would be doubtful about Nigel Chiswold. It had become his purpose to end

that feeling, in order that no one might guess that the stranger was here for a secret purpose. But The Shadow

His reasons for pretense had become much greater, now that The Shadow knew. For it was essential that the

law should remain away from Chiswold Castle until after The Shadow had studied matters there. The Shadow

In muffled tone, The Shadow gave a good morning. He strolled to the fireplace and studied the dying embers.

The question was loud; intended to make The Shadow turn. As if startled, he swung about, groped at his coat

THREE men gaped; Delka was as astounded as his provincial companions. The Shadow, in speaking, had

moved his lips. His countenance, seen by daylight, lacked the lifelessness of the face that they had seen the

Having decided to breakfast at the inn, The Shadow discarded his hat and coat. In removing the latter, he

folded it so that the mask was lost beneath the coat. The proprietor called a servant; a table was laid in a

Delka had not breakfasted. Strolling over, he introduced himself to The Shadow, who, in turn, announced

himself as Professor Roderick Danglar, of Cambridge. In manner, in tone of voice, The Shadow's present

guise differed from that of Lamont Cranston. Delka, when they ate together, did not suspect that this

He did, however, gain the impression that Professor Danglar would be a man worth watching. The Shadow,

in fact, tried to convey that thought to the C.I.D. man; and he succeeded. As the meal progressed, Delka

became more and more determined upon a duty; namely, to trail Professor Danglar wherever he might go.

The Shadow's breakfast discourse concerned the fen lands, which bordered on this district. His comments,

"The fen region," stated The Shadow, "consists of an area which was once a bay from the North Sea. The

estuary called The Wash is the last remaining portion. The siltfilled lowlands which have replaced the

"Originally, the fens were boggy. Since dykes now protect them from the sea and the rivers which flow

through them, the fens are fertile land, much akin to the lowlands of Holland. Imagine it! Half a million acres

"I have traveled across the fens," remarked Delka, "but I have seen nothing of great interest in the district."

"Because you have not studied it. The fens are interesting because of the old ruins. The Romans made efforts

to drain the lowlands. So did the early British and the Danes. Ancient embankments and causeways still

"Later," continued The Shadow, "windmills were used to pump water from the fens. Attempts at reclamation

were conducted on a large scale; but at one period during the time of Cromwell they met with stiff

DELKA made the query in a tone of real surprise. He had not studied the past history of the fens.

"From the fen dwellers," clucked The Shadow. "Rough men who preferred to walk about on stilts through the

marshy land. These native fenmen had rights of commonage, fishing and fowling; also the privilege of

"Aye." The statement came from Mullock. "And there are places where the fens are still wild, where men

"I know," interposed The Shadow. "Those are the lands which I have come to visit. I wish to study the

socalled islands of high ground that exist among the marshes. To search for Roman ruins and to hear the

Finishing his bowl of strawberries and clotted Devonshire cream, The Shadow arose and picked up hat and

coat. He strolled from the inn so briskly that Delka could find no immediate excuse to follow. It was several

minutes before the C.I.D. man could determine upon a purpose. Then he decided to go to the station.

Walking to that destination, Delka found a station agent on duty. The C.I.D. man dispatched a long telegram

to Scotland Yard, asking for information concerning Professor Roderick Danglar of Cambridge. That done,

Hardly had Delka left the station before a figure stepped from a furze which formed a thicket near the road. It

was The Shadow, no longer wearing coat and hat. Instead, he was carrying a package wrapped in a

The Shadow entered the station and sent a telegram of his own. He left the package in the agent's keeping, to

The Shadow's telegram was addressed to Ralph Jamison, in London; and it mentioned the package at

BACK at the Prince William Inn, Eric Delka waited for half an hour. Then Chauncey appeared. The

coachman had left while Delka and The Shadow were eating breakfast. He had come back with news. He

"'Tis a message I bring," declared Chauncey. "It comes from Professor Danglar. He is tramping off to

Highchurch, nigh a league from here. From Highchurch, he will fare to the fens, another two leagues

Delka calculated in terms of miles. Three miles to Highchurch; six more to the border of the nearest fenland.

Delka decided to hire Chauncey's victoria. Soon he was riding toward Highchurch over rough ground where

At Highchurch, Delka made inquiry. He learned that Professor Danglar had gone on to a hamlet where there

were persons who knew the fens. Delka took up the trail by carriage; but he realized that the old victoria,

following rough, twisty roads, could not beat the speed of a man on foot, who chose shortcut bypaths.

Reaching the hamlet, Delka talked with the natives. He found out that Professor Danglar had obtained a pair

of stilts and had gone to visit the wooded Isle of Dean, close to the watery marshes of The Wash. Delka

learned also that the Isle of Dean could be reached by boat, should anyone choose to take a roundabout route.

Delka paid Chauncey and sent the carriage driver back to Yarwick. Then he set out on foot, to take a

tenmile hike that would bring him to the channels where the boatmen dwelt. Chauncey started back along

After one league, he heard a hail. Chauncey stopped and gaped when he saw a tall figure stepping from a

path. It was The Shadow, still guised as Professor Danglar, carrying a pair of long stilts. He put them aboard

the victoria, stepped into the carriage and ordered Chauncey to take him into Highchurch.

"I shall stop there for the day," The Shadow told Chauncey. "Tonight, I may walk back to Yarwick; or else

remain in Highchurch. At any rate, I shall leave these stilts at Highchurch. They are a burden and I am

already tired from my walk. It would be too great an effort to visit the fens today."

Chauncey no longer feared the stranger, particularly during daylight. As they rode into Highchurch, he told

The Shadow of Delka's expedition. A smile appeared upon the lips that had failed to move last night.

Leaving the carriage at Highchurch, The Shadow went to a tiny inn for lunch. Chauncey drove back to

Yarwick; hence he was not present to see The Shadow start out on another hike, without his stilts. This time,

The Shadow again moved in the direction of the fens; but soon he altered his course. He took a short

Trails had diverged. Eric Delka had gone off on a blind course. The Shadow, with midafternoon

DUSK had settled about Chiswold Castle. Heavy clouds had obscured the setting sun; though they did not

threaten rain, those clouds predicted that moonlight would be absent. A huge lull had settled along the fringes

of the woods. The only spot where light remained was in the broad clearing that served as a flying field.

Dufour, the pilot, was standing beside Lodera's monoplane. Puffing a cigarette, the airman showed a

furrowed face as he looked toward the roadway that led from Chiswold Castle. Dufour had been staring

There was another person present near the plane, one whom Dufour had scarcely noticed. This was an old

rustic, stooped of shoulders and dull of eye, who leaned upon an improvised cane that had recently been a

tree bough. The fellow's face was fringed with a round rim of tangly whiskers. He was puffing at an old clay

Such visitors were not uncommon. They came at intervals to gawk at the plane. When children appeared,

Dufour usually ordered them from the premises; but he never bothered about the older persons of this district.

A clatter from the road. Dufour nodded to himself. The beat of horse hoofs thudded from dried ground. A trio

of riders approached and drew rein. They were from the castle; and the group consisted of Lord Cedric

The latter alone dismounted. Gwendolyn reached out and held the horse's bridle, while Lodera spoke with

"You are to fly to London, tomorrow," Lodera told the pilot. "Take off at dawn. After you have reached

Dufour nodded. Lodera pulled a letter from his pocket and was about to hand it to the pilot when he noted the

"Only a gawker," replied Dufour. "You can't keep these countrymen away during the daytime."

Dufour shook his head. Lodera appeared relieved. Nevertheless, he made a gesture toward the cottage.

"Come along then," decided Lodera. "I shall give you another note of introduction. One that will make your

task easier when you arrive in London. Remember: you must be back before nightfall."

LODERA and Dufour went toward the cottage. The old rustic remained, smoking his pipe. Gwendolyn spoke

"Really," declared the girl, nervously, "we should be riding back toward the castle. I hope that Francisco

"Bother the haste!" drawled Lord Cedric. "Why should we be troubled by a bit of darkness?"

"Because of what I saw last night. That weird figure, almost enshrouded by the trees near the castle."

"Come, come, pet!" Lord Cedric seemed annoyed. "You are too imaginative. You saw nothing from the

"It was a shadow that lived!" persisted the girl, tensely. "It was like a ghost, Cedric "

"It was old Jeremy, making his round. Gwendolyn, you must cease this childish chatter. I have no tolerance

"Lodera? Bah! He comes from a credulous, superstitious race. All Spaniards are alike!"

"I do not like these conferences between you and Lodera," he warned. "Remember, Gwendolyn, our marriage

shall take place in the near future. I have allowed you to make friends as you chose; but when you become

"I never shall," blurted Gwendolyn. "I have told you that, Cedric. You know that I do not love you; that I

"Then why not speak to him?" queried Lord Cedric. "Sir Rodney still accepts me as your fiance."

"I have spoken to him," retorted Gwendolyn. "He says that I cannot break the engagement, without your

approval. That is why I am stating plainly that I do not love you. It is you who should speak to my father."

"You will change your mind," he drawled, "and I shall wait until you do. Love is not all that counts in

marriage. Think of the station that you will hold when you share my peerage, as Lady Lorthing."

"That means nothing," protested Gwendolyn. "I warn you, Cedric, I shall never marry you. My mind is firm."

"Your mind is unsettled. Your talk of ghosts is proof that you are distraught. Come, pet; be wise "

Lord Cedric broke off. Lodera and Dufour were returning. The Spaniard mounted his horse and the three

riders started back toward the castle road. Lord Cedric proudly rode ahead, to show the way; while Lodera

Dufour chuckled as he watched the departing cavalcade. A knowing grin appeared upon the pilot's hardened

features. Then he suddenly remembered the old rustic. He swung about in the dusk, to look for the fellow.

DUSK had settled more heavily in the clearing; and it was pitchblack beneath the trees that fringed the field.

In that darkness came the blink of a tiny light, which Dufour could not see because of the thick tree trunks.

The person who carried the flashlight had penetrated deep into the glade before he brought his torch in action.

His path was leading toward the tiny cot off in the woods. When he reached the little oneroom building, the

light carrier entered. He wedged his flashlight across a nail in the wall, then stepped into the glow. His

False trimmings came away. The face looked like that of the socalled Professor Danglar. Then molding

fingers worked to produce a more familiar visage; that of Lamont Cranston. The Shadow had no need for

Garbed as a rustic, he had wandered near the castle during the late afternoon. He had finally reached the

airport; there he had noted Dufour's impatience. The Shadow had expected arrivals from the castle. They had

The Shadow had learned useful facts. Dufour was flying to London in the morning, to carry out some

business for Lodera. Gwendolyn did not intend to marry Lord Cedric; and that fact also concerned Lodera.

Discovery of these facts was sufficient, particularly since The Shadow had also learned that it was

Gwendolyn who had seen him from the casement. The girl's story of a ghost had gained no credence with

Lord Cedric, although she believed that it had impressed Lodera. That, however, mattered little. Gwendolyn's

Night had brought new opportunity. By moonlight, the evening before, The Shadow had investigated the

By day, this afternoon, The Shadow had made further study of the outside situation. He was, at least,

prepared for a visit within the castle itself; one that would allow him more scope than had his open entry in

Hence The Shadow chose his invaluable cloak of black. The folds came from the suitcase beneath the floor.

They slipped over his shoulders. He added the slouch hat; then donned thin gloves and plucked the flashlight

from the wall. The glow clicked off; an invisible being glided from the gamekeeper's cot.

From the abandoned shack to the castle, The Shadow took the course that he had already followed. His

flashlight blinked intermittently; its flashes became less frequent. At last, he reached the open grounds and

glided toward the castle itself. Tonight, since moonlight was absent, the gray walls loomed like a shapeless

Barred windows blocked a groundfloor attempt; but The Shadow had already picked another spot for entry.

Moving directly to the front door of the castle, he edged to one side and gripped the heavy ivy vines that

fronted the wall. Slowly, noiselessly, he ascended to the long balcony above the door.

The Shadow was outside the windows of the front room. They, in themselves, were formidable barriers; for

the sashes were of metal and the windowpanes were small. To break a glass would be an unwise step; one

PRODUCING a thin, wedgelike piece of steel, The Shadow pried it beneath a window edge. These windows

were of the casement type; they swung outward and they were affixed inside by clamped metal rods. The

Shadow, by a levering motion, engaged a knob at the end of one rod. Inch by inch, he pried the fastening

It was a difficult task, for The Shadow was dealing with a clamped device that yielded stubbornly. It would

have taken a full hour, or longer, to have completely opened the window by this method.

The Shadow, however, gained his objective after a dozen minutes. He had the window wide enough for his

hand to enter. He reached the stubborn clamp and loosened it. Then he opened the window without trouble.

Moving from the darkened front room, The Shadow reached a lighted upstairs hall. All was silent on this

floor. Modbury and his guests were at dinner. A black shape that cast a silhouetted streak, The Shadow

slowly descended the great stairs. As he neared the bottom, he heard the sound of voices. People were coming

Pausing in the blackness of an alcoved landing, The Shadow observed Barton Modbury stopping near the foot

of the stairs. Sir Rodney Ralthorn and Lord Cedric Lorthing joined their host. Modbury boomed a cheery

"Come to the great room across the hall," suggested Modbury. "I shall have Tyson kindle the large fire, for

this cloudy night may soon turn chilly. We can chat in comfort and plan for the coming fox hunt that will be

"No, no," corrected Sir Rodney. "It will be upon the day after. Today is Thursday. The hunt is to be held

Luval, the secretary, had approached. He spoke to Modbury just as the baldheaded host was starting toward

"Shall I complete the typing of those letters, sir?" queried Luval. "There will be time for Hasslett to carry

THE SHADOW had withdrawn from the niche upon the stairs. He was moving upward; and the act was

timely. Luval had started toward the stairs. But when the secretary had reached the top, he saw no sign of The

Luval opened the door of a side room. The Shadow, peering from the darkness of another doorway, saw the

interior. The room was fitted like a small office; but it also had a partial atmosphere of a study. A desk

occupied the center. Beyond was a safe, set in an alcove. To one side was a bookcase.

Luval closed the door behind him. The Shadow waited, expecting a new development. It came. Footsteps

sounded from the stairway; a cautious, ascending tread. Then a man came into view and sneaked across the

The hall light showed the features of this visitor who had stolen up to talk with Luval. The arrival was

LUVAL answered Lodera's soft knock. Opening the door, the secretary beckoned the Spaniard into the study.

Lodera entered; but Luval did not close the door entirely. He left it ajar, as a guard against intruders.

That fact was to The Shadow's liking. Softly, he crept forward, his black form spectral in the dim light of the

hall. A blotting shape, he peered past the lighted crack of the door edge. With keen eyes, he saw both Luval

The two men were facing each other across the desk. Luval was gazing wisely through his spectacles. He was

looking toward The Shadow; but he did not discern those eyes at the door. Luval was too interested in his

The Shadow, in turn, was viewing the men at Modbury's desk; but he was also discovering the possibilities of

the room. Because of its mingled furnishings, it offered various nooks. The best was a darkened spot beyond

That hiding place was more to The Shadow's liking than this doorway. He would have chosen it, had he

known that this was the room to which Luval was coming. As it was, The Shadow could only keep his

"I spoke to Dufour." It was Lodera who spoke. "He leaves for London at dawn. He will return before

Luval had drawn a card from a desk drawer. He arose and went to the safe in the alcove. He turned the

combination, opened the front and drew out a folio which he tossed upon the desk. Then, turning back to the

LUVAL replaced the package in the safe, closed the door and returned to the desk. He tossed the little card

"Yes," he affirmed, "the money will be yours tomorrow. But remember" he looked up and chuckled "the

"The rest is arranged," returned Lodera, suavely. "It is the money, alone, that troubles me."

Lodera leaned back at Luval's words. His profile turned toward the door. The Shadow saw a keen gleam upon

"About Modbury," queried Lodera, "do you suppose that he has begun to suspect my game?"

"Not at all," returned Luval. "My only doubts concern Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric."

"They know nothing. Sir Rodney is a blundersome old tyrant; while Lord Cedric is a conceited dolt. The only

"Agreed. You don't suppose that either will be back, on account of Geoffrey Chiswold?"

"No. They will not return. Wait a few minutes, Lodera, while I go over these letters from the folio. Then we

The Shadow was still watching from the door. But with the pause of Luval's voice, he detected a new sound;

one that came from elsewhere than the study. The Shadow edged back into the hall. He looked toward the

Cautious footsteps told of an approaching intruder; and The Shadow had seconds only to avoid discovery.

Quickly, he glided back to his obscure doorway near the front of the hall. Immediately afterward, a man came

IT was Nigel Chiswold. Face strained, but alert; hands extended before him, like menacing cudgels, Nigel

looked prepared for any encounter. The Shadow saw him glance toward the stairs. Then came the faint,

indistinguishable buzz of voices from the study. Nigel heard and turned. He stole to the very listening post

Luval and Lodera had resumed their discussions; but this time it was Nigel Chiswold, not The Shadow, who

was hearing the details. One interloper had replaced the other. The Shadow had no alternative; he was forced

Yet the gleam of The Shadow's eyes was indication that he had heard enough for the present. He was willing

to let Nigel listen. The Shadow knew that this episode would cause one crosspurpose to meet another.

Nigel had carried through his plan. He had come down from the spy room in the turret, to study matters in

Chiswold Castle. The shrewd smile on his face showed that he was learning facts that suited him. Whatever

New footsteps. The Shadow heard them; but Nigel did not. The tread, though unguarded, was a soft one,

coming up the stairs. The Shadow knew that it must be Gwendolyn Ralthorn. The girl's room was on the

other side of the hallway. Chances were that she would not glance in the direction of the study.

Gwendolyn appeared at the top of the stairs. As The Shadow expected, she started in the direction of her own

room. It was Nigel who spoiled his own chances of escaping discovery. He heard the footsteps in the hall. He

The slight sound of Nigel's move caught Gwendolyn's ear. The girl stopped short. She looked squarely

toward the door of the study. Against its background, she saw Nigel's pallid face. The girl quivered in terror;

Like old Jeremy, Gwendolyn had mistaken Nigel for his cousin; and her reactions were the same. She thought

that she was viewing the ghost of Geoffrey Chiswold. But Gwendolyn had greater reason to be horrified. Not

only was the apparition inside the castle itself; but the appearance of the supposed ghost came as an added

Gwendolyn had not forgotten the blackened shape that she had seen upon the lawn in the moonlight. Despite

Lord Cedric's skepticism, she had retained her qualms. Upon spying Nigel and taking him for Geoffrey,

GWENDOLYN'S second cry was a half shriek. With it, Nigel bounded forward, hissing for silence.

Gwendolyn dropped back, burying her face in her hands; trying to scream, but failing. As Nigel reached her,

There was the sound of commotion in the study. The Shadow heard the muffled shove of chairs. Luval and

Lodera had heard the noise in the hall. Alarmed, they were coming out to learn the trouble. Nigel heard their

A creak of the stairs had passed unnoticed; but now it turned to sudden footsteps. As Nigel headed for the

front room, a bulky man sprang up to stop his flight. The arrival was a hardfaced servant, whose eyes

Nigel wheeled at the man's approach. With a scientific jab, he drove his fist to the big fellow's chin, sent the

man sprawling against the wall. Madly, Nigel precipitated himself through the doorway of the front room.

Gwendolyn, opening her eyes, caught a blurred glimpse of his departure. She saw the big servant coming up

from the floor; then gasped again. As she sagged backward, Lodera and Luval reached the hall.

"Gwendolyn!" It was Lodera who spoke the name, his suave manner changed to one of dismay.

"Not into the study," warned Luval, peering anxiously toward the stairs. Then, seeing the servant by the wall:

The servant nodded. Lodera pointed to the front room. Mund balked for a moment; then helped the Spaniard

carry Gwendolyn in that direction. Luval looked sharply from the stairs. Those below had heard no sounds,

for the great room was distant. The secretary saw where Lodera and Mund had gone. He followed into the

The Shadow moved forward. He reached a spot outside the door; but did not peer into the front room, for

those within were using the light from the hall. Gwendolyn was reviving. The Shadow could hear the girl's

"The ghost!" The words were a gasp. "I saw it! The ghost of Geoffrey Chiswold! It came in here it may still

Lodera was trying to calm the girl. Luval had lighted a candle; he was swinging the candlestick about the

room. The flame threw long, grotesque streaks against the wall. Gwendolyn restrained herself with difficulty.

"There is no one here," declared Luval, smoothly. "See for yourself. The room is empty. Try the windows,

The servant did so. He found none loose. The Shadow had reclamped the one by which he had entered.

"Mund must have seen it, too," expressed Gwendolyn, tensely. "I saw the ghost pass him. He had come from

"Of course, not," put in Luval, eyeing the servant steadily. "There are no ghosts about the castle."

"I saw no one," he said in a husky tone. "I heard her ladyship scream, while I was coming from the stairs.

GWENDOLYN gasped; then shook her head. Mund's testimony had left her speechless. Luval turned to

"None should know of this occurrence," he said, cautiously. "Come, Mund. I have some letters that I wish

The secretary set down the candle. He left the front room, with Mund following stolidly at his heels. They

went into the study; the door closed behind them. The Shadow, drawn back from the doorway of the front

"I don't know," replied Lodera, slowly. Then, in a troubled tone: "Luval is right, however. No one must know

"But I cannot remain here, Francisco! Not while Geoffrey's ghost is still about "

"Only tonight, Gwendolyn. You can make an excuse to stay up until dawn. I shall do the same. I have it! I

"That is exactly what we shall do. Your father is a night owl. He will stay up, also. But say nothing about

Another gasp from Gwendolyn; but this was a happy one. Lodera laughed softly and the girl joined. She

"Go downstairs," he whispered. "Act as if nothing had happened. I shall talk with Luval. Leave all to me,

They came from the front room, just as the study door opened. Luval appeared with Mund. The servant

started downstairs, carrying the letters that Luval had given him. The Shadow, black in a darkened corner,

saw Lodera gesture for the girl to go down also. Gwendolyn followed Mund. Lodera and Luval descended a

WHILE the pair stood with heads together, a singular phenomenon occurred in the upstairs hall behind them.

Blackness moved forward from a corner. It left a dull, dimly lighted patch of wall at the spot where it had

been. Solidified, that shape became a living form; one that either Lodera or Luval might have taken for a

Weird was The Shadow, as he silently crossed the hall to the opened door of the study. His form made a

mammoth blot against the light from the room. Then it faded from view, leaving only a streaked silhouette

Even the floor patch shrank as The Shadow moved into the hiding place he wanted. He was beyond the

bookcase, merged with blackness. The burning gaze of his eyes was lost beneath the sheltering brim of his

Footsteps. Lodera and Luval were returning. The Shadow had chosen the vantage point from which he could

view the sequel to Gwendolyn's experience with the supposed ghost of Geoffrey Chiswold.

FRANCISCO LODERA wore a strained countenance when he entered the study with Luval. The secretary

motioned him to the chair before the desk; then took Modbury's chair for his own. Lodera was prompt with a

"Gwendolyn saw something," he told Luval "What could it have been? Do you think that Geoffrey Chiswold

Lodera's face had lost its darkish hue. The Spaniard had been impressed by Gwendolyn's story.

"It was not a ghost," replied Luval, "nor was it a human being. No one could have escaped from that front

"He swore that he saw nothing. He would have spoken differently if he had seen. Mund tells the truth to me."

"Of course," agreed the Spaniard, "he is the man whom you bought when you first came here ahead of

Modbury. You told me about that, Luval. Gwendolyn imagined something; that was all. Of course, it could

not have been Geoffrey Chiswold. He is dead, as you say. And if it were someone else "

"Since Miss Ralthorn could not have seen Geoffrey," interposed Luval, blandly, "we have proof that her

imagination tricked her. Ghosts are not real, Lodera. It was a hallucination; that is all."

"But if she mistook someone for Geoffrey someone who was outside this door then that person might

"There was no one. Forget the matter. All will be well; you can trust me for that, Lodera. Keep your mind

"That is best." Lodera arose. "I must go downstairs. They will be wondering about my absence. Gwendolyn,

Luval was rising. He held up a warning hand as a cautious tap sounded at the door.

"It is Mund," declared the secretary. "He has come to tell me that Mr. Modbury wishes me downstairs. You

must wait" he glanced at a desk clock "yes, wait for a full ten minutes before you come down."

LUVAL opened the door. Mund was standing there. The secretary spoke to the servant. Luval told Mund to

station himself in the front room. The bulky man nodded his acknowledgment. The two departed, Luval

Lodera began a troubled pacing back and forth in front of the desk. The Shadow, watching, knew that he was

still thinking about the ghost; and Lodera's face showed deep perplexity. Five minutes passed. Lodera began

to show restlessness. At the end of two minutes more, he had tilted his head to one side, as if listening.

Suddenly, Lodera made a dart for the door. He was too late; he stepped back from the threshold as the barrier

opened. He was faced by a trio of men: Barton Modbury, Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric. Lodera chewed his

"I thought you were in here," he said to Modbury. "The light was on and the door ajar. I stepped in to look for

Modbury's face showed anger. Lord Cedric and Sir Rodney eyed Lodera suspiciously.

Modbury cut Lodera short. Apparently, his anger had subsided. Modbury went behind the desk, sat down

"Quite all right," he told Lodera. "A bit unusual, to find someone in the study; but I suppose Luval's neglect

to turn off the light is a sufficient reason. Since we had hoped to find you anyway, it is just as well that you

Lodera smiled in a suave fashion. He produced a cigarette and placed it in the end of an amber holder. His

nonchalance had returned. Modbury started to open the desk drawer; then changed his mind.

Going to the safe, he used the combination from memory. He brought out a chamois bag and a package. The

Back at the desk, Modbury opened the package. Crisp currency came into view. Modbury counted Bank of

"Ten thousand pounds," boomed Modbury. "More than the price of your rubies, Lodera."

"Yes," acknowledged the Spaniard, with a smile. "My price is six thousand. By the way, Mr. Modbury,

Dufour will have the gems here tomorrow. I thought it best to complete our transaction before the day of the

"Very well." Modbury paused and opened the chamois bag. He poured a mass of uncut diamonds upon the

desk. "Here are my rough beauties, Sir Rodney. Worth twenty thousand pounds, at a conservative estimate."

Sir Rodney's eye lighted. His gaze was that of a connoisseur. Lord Cedric, too, was interested. He knew the

"Egad!" exclaimed Sir Rodney. "I should like to purchase the lot. This one" he held up a single stone

LORD CEDRIC nodded. His dryish features showed a pleased smile. The Shadow's gaze centered upon

"I say, Modbury," drawled Lord Cedric, "how can you afford to part with these fine stones? What use have

Lodera darted an angry look toward Lord Cedric; then his eyes lost their irate flash as he steadied himself.

"Just this," explained the diamond king. "Uncut diamonds are plentiful in South Africa. The price that I ask

for these stones is a normal one, judged by the local market. Moreover, my collection is sufficient. These are

"As for the other, rubies are much esteemed, at present, in South Africa. I am quite willing to pay a good

price for Lodera's Spanish gems, because I can easily dispose of them when I return to Johannesburg.

"I am a business man from first to last. I shall show a fair profit on each transaction. Among friends, a

reasonable profit is all that I expect. Well, Sir Rodney, our business can wait until after my deal with Lodera.

Replacing the diamonds in the chamois bag, Modbury put the latter in the safe. He closed the door; then

"Quite a fortune here," said Modbury. "My uncut diamonds, at twenty thousand pounds; my bank notes

totaling ten more. When Lodera's rubies arrive, we shall have six thousand pounds more in value to protect.

"That is why I have chosen trustworthy servants. To a man, all are competent. All my own servitors with

the exception of Mund who came with the castle. But both Luval and I deem him reliant."

The group went from the study; and Modbury turned out the light. The Shadow came from his hiding place

and moved toward the door. He listened there. Soon he heard footsteps coming up. Luval appeared and called

Luval waited. Soon Lodera appeared, coming cautiously from below. Luval drew him toward the door of the

"I had no chance to warn you," stated Luval. "Mr. Modbury told me to remain downstairs. You were out of

"No," replied Lodera, softly, "but I managed to cover it. They were suspicious at first. I had better be on my

The secretary nodded. He followed Lodera to the stairs and descended almost to the alcove. The Shadow

made a swift exit from the study; he reached the front room just as Luval gave a low call. Then came the

The Shadow had no time to reach the window. Instead, he chose a corner of the darkened front room. Mund

entered; then went out again. It was plain that he intended merely to keep guard over the door that led from

TEN minutes passed. Luval had gone to the study. The Shadow heard someone else come up. It was

Modbury. The diamond king walked into the study and closed the door. Soon Luval came out and beckoned

"Kindle the fire in the study," ordered Luval, in a low tone. "I shall keep watch here while you are busy."

Mund nodded and went into the study. It was ten minutes before he reappeared. When he came out, he was

Mund nodded and went down the stairs. Luval peered into the front room; then, hearing someone on the

stairs, he sauntered back into the study. This time the arrival was Lord Cedric Lorthing going toward his own

room. Luval had hurried into the study rather than have Lord Cedric see him here.

The Shadow went to the front window. Carefully, he unclamped it; then eased out upon the balcony. He

closed the casement behind him, jamming it so tightly that it would pass ordinary inspection, yet would open

Mund's returning figure appeared in the hall light, just as The Shadow crossed the side rail of the balcony.

Unseen by the servant within, the blackcloaked intruder descended the thick ivy stems and reached the

From then on, The Shadow was part of the night itself. The big Humber left for the village, to return a half

hour later. Old Jeremy went his rounds with swinging lantern. Lights went out in Modbury's study; but they

INVISIBLE in the darkness, The Shadow circled the castle. He stopped beside the crags to listen to the roar

of sea that came up through the hollow of the cove. He passed the windows of the great room, where

flickering firelight joined the mellow glow of electric illumination, to throw forth shaded outlines of the

At intervals, The Shadow returned to the front of the gloomy, blackened building. From long perspective, he

gained occasional glimpses of Mund's head and shoulders beyond the lighted inner doorway. At times, The

Francisco Lodera and Gwendolyn Ralthorn had gone through with their plan to stay up until dawn; and they

had talked Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric into the same proposition. Hence The Shadow had an allnight vigil

of his own; for he expected no move until all had retired. Frequently, The Shadow noted the barren blankness

There were questions that might have perplexed an investigator other than The Shadow, had anyone else been

able to learn as much as had the cloaked intruder. They formed an interesting medley.

Why had Mund said that he had seen no one, despite the fact that he had struggled with Nigel Chiswold?

Why had Luval insisted that Mund had clung to his story; then kept watch, along with the servant, over the

front room? Besides these questions, there were incidents that had a bearing. One the most important was

the entry of Modbury, Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric before Lodera had gained time to leave the study.

Diamonds, cash soon rubies as well. The Shadow could see reason for coming crime at Chiswold Castle.

But he could see other reasons more important than the fact that wealth was stored there. Reasons for

The Shadow had ferreted the answers to the medley concerning all, including Nigel Chiswold. He knew that

IT was the hour of dawn, yet darkness still reigned about Chiswold Castle. Clouded skies gripped the east and

blocked the rays of the early, rising sun. The cover of night still served The Shadow as a deepveiled shroud.

Long hours had brought no change to the castle until this very end of night. Then The Shadow had watched

the lights blink out within the great room. Other lights had appeared in upstairs windows; but not for long.

Gwendolyn Ralthorn had evidently lost her fear of ghosts, with so little night remaining, or else the others

had decided upon sleep while darkness still persisted. Whichever the case, all had retired; and the upstairs

At almost the same time, gray streaks appeared upon the horizon past the trees in front of the castle. While

The Shadow kept vigil, hazy dawn widened, crept up through the sky to barely outline the grim shape of

Chiswold Castle. Gray stones, however, caught no rays. The massive building still remained a blotting hulk.

Suddenly tiny blinks appeared out of the darkness. They were coming from the slits in the tall turret. Nigel

Chiswold was using a flashlight, signaling to old Jeremy, to draw the gatekeeper on his early inspection.

THEN The Shadow discerned a new phenomenon hard on the finished blinks of Nigel's flashlight. A

wavering glow appeared in the front room on the second floor. Grotesque splotches flickered past the

windows. Someone was moving in that room someone, who carried a lighted candle in its stick.

The Shadow moved forward from a range of fifty yards. The candle light had sidled to an inner corner of the

room. Keeping on, The Shadow gained the porch. Completely concealed against the darkened front of the

castle, he climbed up by the ivy. The candle was muffed out just as he reached the balcony.

Softly The Shadow drew the casement window outward. He slid into the front room and blinked his tiny

flashlight. He found exactly what he expected. Emptiness. Just as Nigel Chiswold had vanished, so had this

new intruder. But it could not be Nigel again. The blinks from the turret had been almost simultaneous with

The Shadow went to the corner beneath the turret. His blinking flashlight picked out smooth surfaces of

paneling. The Shadow saw the streaks of finger prints that had slid along the woodwork. Using them like

arrow points, he pressed upward; then to the side, for the horizontal streaks had crossed the vertical.

Without a click, the wainscoating opened. The Shadow stepped into a musty, tomblike well. His flashlight

showed a tiny landing with an opening that led to a spiral staircase. The steps came from deep below. They

went corkscrewing upward into the turret itself. The Shadow pulled the panel shut by an inner catch.

They ended with a hinged trapdoor, which The Shadow pressed upward, inch by inch. Peering, he saw the

interior of a rounded room where gray light penetrated through slits in the wall and from an opening in the

Nigel Chiswold had gone up to the roof of the turret. The slits were too narrow to serve in sending a cord

down to Jeremy. Nigel must be calling for a basket in return; hence he had chosen the turret top. But The

A ladder had been placed from the floor to the ceiling; and another man had arrived to use it without Nigel's

knowledge. The man was Mund. The Shadow saw his bulky figure at the ladder's top. It was Mund who had

The Shadow opened the trapdoor swiftly. He came into the spy room just as Mund reached the roof. The

bulky servant did not look below. He was too intent upon the work that lay ahead. The Shadow delivered a

INSTANTLY, two sounds responded from above. One was a harsh growl from Mund; the other, an

exclamation that was Nigel's. Both had heard the weird strain of The Shadow's mirth; they had swung about,

A scuffle began as The Shadow gained the ladder. A snarled oath from Mund; a savage retort from Nigel.

Whipping forth an automatic as he climbed, The Shadow projected his head and shoulders from the opening

He was a witness to the opening of a vicious struggle. Nigel had locked with Mund. The two had ample space

in which to fight, for the top of the turret widened above the secret room; and the opening from which The

A parapet protected the fighters as they swayed back and forth across the turret top. This parapet was the

Its castellated crest was topped by solid posts called merlons, with cutout sections in between the

embrasures, or crenelles, through which bowmen had discharged their arrow in bygone days.

The crenelles were narrow, too small for a body to squeeze through. Hence Nigel and Mund, in their struggle,

were protected by the full height of the merlons. Realizing that, each man fought to beat down his antagonist.

Nigel had been forced into a prompt clinch by Mund. Wiry of frame and limb, the man from India had gained

a strangle hold upon his foe. Mund, grunting like a choking bull, was bobbing his head back and forth.

As they twisted, Mund gained the upper hand. Nigel's choking measures failed. The pair staggered against the

parapet. Mund then drove Nigel downward and wedged his left arm in a crenelle. Then, as Mund twisted

LEVERING himself by gripping a postlike merlon, Nigel came up as Mund charged him. He clipped a

savage uppercut against the bulky fellow's chin. Mund staggered backward. Nigel, steadying, pounced toward

Evidently, he had not anticipated the need for this weapon; but had changed his mind in the fury of the fray.

Nigel, seeing the dangerous dirk, was quick to clutch Mund's wrist. They locked and whirled about like

dervishes, while The Shadow followed them back and forth with his moving automatic.

No one could have told which fighter was The Shadow's target. The cloaked watcher was deliberate, for the

fray was even. Mund had no chance to use his knife; but Nigel, in clutching the fellow's wrist, could not

Increasing dawn revealed this vivid scene; a battle to the death. One man was sure to gain a kill.

Once, The Shadow's finger was almost ready to press the trigger, for the pair had leaned half across the

parapet; and neither fighter had sure footing. Then the two sagged back. The Shadow was waiting until they

That moment came in a startling fashion. Nigel, still attacking Mund's wrist, had jammed the stolid servant

back to the parapet; but was still caught in his grasp. Wrenching his other hand free, Mund drove his heavy

fist to Nigel's twisting shoulder. The blow was a lucky one. It sent Nigel sprawling.

Twisting, Nigel caught his footing and dived for the wall. He clamped hold of a merlon, then came up as

Mund was still swinging outward as he turned to meet the edgewise attack. The Shadow's gun hand

tightened. He was prepared to decide the fray. Then came a finish which anticipated his deed.

From the darkness beyond the front of the castle, a sharp crack resounded. Deep from the lower gloom it

MUND fumed an oath and let his right hand drop. His knife clattered into a crenelle; then plopped to the

turret top within the battlement. Mund twisted backward, both hands dropping to his side.

As Nigel plunged toward him, Mund went over backward. His bulky shoulders poised; then slid from the

parapet. Headforemost, while he gasped a gargly cry, Mund went plunging clear of Nigel's clutch, to the

Nigel paused to watch the finish of the fall. His hands clutching separated merlons, he stared into the

blackened depths. Groggily, he turned about. The Shadow saw his shrewd eyes narrow. Nigel had recognized

the sound of that distant shot; and The Shadow, too, could have defined it. The sharp crackle of an Afghan

A marksman, hidden almost at the verge of the front trees, had witnessed the struggle on the turret top.

Amakar, the Afghan, had contacted Jeremy, with the password: "Khyber." He had accompanied the

gatekeeper in answer to Nigel's blinks. The dusky sharpshooter had picked Mund from the struggle at a range

The Shadow had dropped from view, his own plan useless. He had been ready to save one fighter; but the

fray was ended. Amakar's stroke had roused those in the castle. Departure was The Shadow's immediate

The Shadow was gone before Nigel had turned to the opening in the turret roof. By the time that Nigel had

clambered down into the slitted spy room, The Shadow was through the trapdoor. Nigel did not see it lowered

from beneath. It was solid floor when he reached it and began to pound wooden wedges into the cracks.

The Shadow, on the spiral staircase, heard the sounds. He knew that Nigel was preparing to offset new

invaders. The Shadow continued his descent. He unlatched the panel at the landing and stepped into the

People were pounding down the stairway of the castle; none had stopped to survey the front room. The

Shadow gained the window and jammed it tight as he departed. Over the rail, he reached the ivy vines and

fairly dropped to the ground below. Obscured by the total darkness that clung to the indentations of the

THE great door of Chiswold Castle had been flung open. A flood of excited persons guests and servants

had arrived to learn the cause of the gunshot and the succeeding clatter of Mund's fall. When they reached the

Flashlights glimmered. The added glare revealed Mund's crumpled, lifeless body, with old Jeremy beside it.

The gatekeeper was pale and shaky. His fowling piece was resting loosely in his hand.

Luval, half dressed, was the first to recognize the dead man's face. The secretary blurted the name: "Mund!"

The Shadow, twenty paces distant, could hear the gatekeeper's words. He saw the looks of astonishment that

"'Twas yonder he was," lied Jeremy, pointing toward the windows of the front room above the door. "When I

spied him, I laid aside my lantern at this very spot where now I stand. 'Twas a warning aye, a warning that I

"What is this?" The question came from Barton Modbury, who had arrived in a dressing gown. "Mund?

"'Twas I who fired the shot, sir, with this fowling piece that I bear. But 'twas a warning that I first did give

"That is right, Mr. Modbury." The statement came from Hasslett, the chauffeur. "I heard some shouts from

"I spied him at the window," went on Jeremy. "'Twas whilst I was straight before the castle door. I saw the

shape of him; and when he came to clamber on the vines, I called to him. 'Twas my duty to fire when he did

"Of course." Modbury was bending over Mund's body. "Hmm. He's badly racked. It's difficult to tell where

"'Twas from this side of the rail, sir, that he dropped. 'Twas the lantern that he saw and crawled to it. Like

Graphically, Jeremy gave a lunging gait that resembled a long, crablike progress. It added emphasis to his

FRANCISCO LODERA had arrived from the castle. A few moments later, Gwendolyn appeared. The

Spaniard saw the girl and motioned her back toward the door. He started to explain what had happened.

"Perhaps we should check this story, Mr. Modbury," stated Luval. "Mund is badly crushed. We ought to be

sure about his fall. Was he on top of the rail in front of the windows, Jeremy?"

"Aye," the shrewd gatekeeper saw a chance for embellishment, "he was trying to clutch the vines ere he

"It sounds true, Sir Rodney," remarked Modbury, turning to the man who was closest. "Would you consider

"Why not?" echoed Sir Rodney. "You are master here, Modbury. Jeremy is the man who patrols the grounds.

Modbury followed Sir Rodney. Two servants came along and they went up to the front room. There, Sir

Rodney tried the windows and found one that was loose. It was the window by which The Shadow had left.

"Halloo!" called Sir Rodney, to those below. "Look this way, gatekeeper! Was this the window by which the

When the men from above came out from the castle, Luval put a casual inquiry to Modbury.

"The window was unlocked, sir?" asked the secretary. "The one by which Jeremy said Mund had left?"

"That makes it plain, sir," said Luval. "Mund has behaved suspiciously of late. Perhaps he was contemplating

"Yes, sir. He was about the second floor all evening, long after I had told him that there would be no more

"Then look to the safe upstairs! Refer to the combination in the desk drawer. Mund may have found it. Open

Luval hurried indoors. A few moments later, Modbury followed, accompanied by Sir Rodney and Lord

Cedric. A cluster of servants still remained about Mund's body, while Jeremy stood by. Soon, Modbury

"Nothing is gone," he told the servants. "The rascal had apparently postponed his theft until after he tested the

JEREMY handed the gun to Modbury. The Shadow could see a slight smile on the gatekeeper's lips. Jeremy

had been wise enough to unload. As for the barrel, it had not been cleaned for weeks. Inspection would

"Hasslett," ordered Modbury, "drive into Yarwick at once and inform the local authorities. Have them come

here and make a prompt inspection. Tell them that we shall hold the body until their arrival.

"Jeremy, you must come into the castle. I shall have the constables talk with you. I shall testify that you were

acting in discharge of your duty. This affair will bring us no trouble. Mund had no right to be leaving the

Luval had come out again. The Shadow could see the secretary's face, for Luval had picked up Jeremy's

lantern. Luval was wearing a satisfied smile. The Shadow knew why. Mund had been supposed to leave the

castle quietly after certain work was finished. Luval thought the servant had been doing so; that Jeremy had

Jeremy's own testimony; the unlocked window; finally, the emptied fowling piece all were points of proof.

Luval's satisfaction was expressed because an unneeded tool had been eliminated. Mund had been useful for

Luval was an absolute wretch; a crook who played a part in deeplaid schemes. He was one who pretended to

be a man of integrity a man fit to hold a position of trust. Yet in this course of crime, Luval, himself, was a

tool. The real crook who must be met was the master whose secret plans Luval served. The Shadow knew.

Francisco Lodera was still standing upon the porch, with Gwendolyn beside him. The servants followed

Luval into the castle. Lodera and the girl were alone. Daylight was painting the upper floors of the castle; the

last remnants of night clung to the ground alone. The Shadow still held a position of security. He waited.

"Could Mund have seen the ghost?" queried the girl, anxiously. "Could the poor chap have fled because he

LODERA considered. The Shadow could see his face tighten, for Lodera's profile was against the lights that

"It might be so," decided Lodera. His tone, slow and deliberate, was one that gave an impression of either

doubt or fear. "Yes, it could have been that, Gwendolyn. Either the ghost, or his belief in ghosts "

"Such could have driven him to flight. Francisco, it is only right that I should speak and tell everyone of what

"Hush!" Lodera's command was a harsh hiss. "Would you spoil my plans, which you promised to aid?"

"Honest with ourselves." Lodera had changed his tone to a persuasive purr. "You know, Gwendolyn, that my

ways are honest. I have explained to you why I have trusted Luval. You know that I intend no ill to anyone."

"Your idea of honesty. Can't you understand, Francisco? This poor fellow Mund has been accused of

"It is just as bad. If he is innocent; if he acted through fear, he must be cleared. His name "

"His name is nothing. He was the last of the former servants. If no evidence is produced against him, Mund

"So am I for old Jeremy. There is a man who really deserves your pity. Think of him, with his poor family.

"Yes. By worrying about Mund. Can't you see that Jeremy's best defense is the fact that Mund may have been

THE girl nodded slowly. Lodera's clever twist of circumstances had begun to convince her. She was

weighing the case of Jeremy versus Mund when a low roar came from beyond the castle. It increased; the

whirr of an airplane motor. Lodera pointed upward to the lightened sky. The girl saw the monoplane.

"Dufour, off to London," exclaimed Lodera, with enthusiasm. "For us, Gwendolyn! For you, as much as for

"Say nothing about Mund, then. Do not mention ghosts. Remember, we shall be gone soon after dark

Lodera and Gwendolyn went into the house; the last of all who had come out upon the porch. Hasslett had

gone in the landaulet to Yarwick. The front of the castle was deserted. Now, it was illuminated by day, except

A shape stirred from the darkness of the wall and followed the streak of blackness. It was a cloaked figure,

that of a being who had remained until the last fleeting moment in order to learn all. The tall, gliding form

reached the trees just as the sun burst through the clouds to brighten the entire scene.

No darkness remained where the figure had been. The Shadow had vanished with the last vestige of night.

THAT afternoon, a new passenger stepped from the down train at Yarwick platform. The arrival was a

welldressed young man who surveyed his surroundings with interest. Chauncey, driving up in his victoria,

was prompt to hail a possible fare. The young man shook his head, and Chauncey drove along.

When the squatlycarred local train had pulled from the platform, the young man went into the station. He

saw the agent behind his counter; he also observed a package wrapped in a newspaper. When the agent

looked up, the young man introduced himself as Mr. Ralph Jamison. He received the package.

Outside the station, the young man tore the newspaper and extracted an envelope which he found within. He

discovered a message in the envelope and read its inked lines. The writing faded as he completed his reading

of a simple code. Such was the way with all messages from The Shadow to his agents.

For it had been The Shadow, as Professor Roderick Danglar, who had left the package at the station. The

young man who had received it, as Ralph Jamison, was none other than Harry Vincent.

Immediately after reading the instructions, Harry tucked the package under his arm and looked for a secluded

lane. He found one, a narrow, hedgeflanked thoroughfare of the type styled a "smuggler's road." Stooping

close to a hedge, Harry ripped the package fully open and extracted the garments which Nigel Chiswold had

Harry donned the complete outfit, including the mask, which he managed in Nigel's fashion. With coat collar

muffling his chin, he stalked from the smuggler's road and pulled his hat more firmly downward on his head.

Harry had a hat of his own, an old soft one; and he kept it stowed beneath the bulky overcoat.

Following directions from The Shadow's note, Harry went to the Prince William Inn. He found Chauncey's

carriage parked outside. The driver was evidently in the barroom. Harry, however, went directly through the

The proprietor looked up as Harry stalked by. He gaped at sight of the supposed Professor Danglar. A shaft of

light struck Harry's face; Mullock spied the masklike visage, then gulped. He listened while the guest went

HARRY'S stay upstairs was a brief one. He came down immediately and walked through the lower room.

With a sidelong glance, he spied the proprietor staring from the connecting door. As he passed, Harry grunted

Harry's face was turned. Mullock could not tell whether or not the fixed lips moved. Nor could Chauncey,

who had regained his carriage, to gawk as the mysterious guest came from the inn. Harry turned on his heel

and walked rapidly away. He started in the direction of Highchurch; then doubled through to the smuggler's

There, Harry discarded his disguise. He buried the garments and the mask beneath the thickness of a hedge.

Cutting back, he strolled toward the inn, wearing his own hat and employing a leisurely gait.

The inn was buzzing when Harry reached it, but The Shadow's agent did not appear to notice the suppressed

commotion. He entered the main room and inquired regarding Eric Delka. The proprietor told him that Delka

Half an hour drifted, during which time speculation subsided. All was quiet when a man came stamping in

through the front door and growled a greeting to Mullock. Harry looked about. It was Delka, sourfaced and

"Inspector Delka!" exclaimed Harry, coming to his feet. "The very man I have come to see!"

"I called up Cranston," explained Harry, glibly. "He was gone from London, so I called Scotland Yard. I

"I don't. I am glad to see you, Vincent. Come on upstairs while I change my clothes. I want to talk to you."

Mullock had approached to hand Delka a telegram which had been delivered at the inn. The proprietor had

heard Harry address Delka as "Inspector"; he had also caught the reference to Scotland Yard. As soon as

DELKA became confidential as soon as he and Harry reached the room. The C.I.D. man opened his telegram,

grunted, then began to change his clothes and prepare for a shave. He indicated that Harry was to read the

"'Professor Roderick Danglar'," read Harry, aloud, "'not connected with Cambridge University.'"

"That's the good word," nodded Delka, with a sour look. "The fellow led me a wild goose chase all through

"Some mystery man who came to Yarwick. He had people talking, here at the inn, so I followed him. I

thought I would find him at the Isle of Dean; but he never went there. I was stranded over night."

A rap at the door. Delka, tugging on another pair of boots, gave an order to come in. Mullock entered,

"Mr. Delka," stated the innkeeper, "this is Mr. Hayman, our chief police Inspector. He is quite anxious to talk

"I heard that you were here," he said. "I know you by reputation, Inspector Delka."

Delka smiled. He realized that Mullock had caught the conversation downstairs and had passed the word to

"Yes," declared Delka, "I have been here investigating a rather unusual person a man who calls himself

"He was back here, sir!" exclaimed Mullock. "Only half an hour ago. He has set out once more for

"So that's it!" he guffawed. "Postponed his trip to the fens and returned here. Gone on his way again, has he?"

"He stopped last night at Highchurch," stated the proprietor, "for Chauncey saw him there. He had a pair of

"A harmless idiot," decided Delka. "No more a Cambridge professor than I am. Nevertheless, I shall go to

"Would it be asking too much," queried Hayman, "if I requested a postponement of your journey, Inspector

Delka came to his feet and stared. Harry Vincent could not restrain his own expression. He knew that The

Shadow was at Chiswold Castle. Great though the confidence that Harry held in his chief, he knew that The

"Not an alarming happening," added Hayman, quickly. "Just a servant a man named Mund. The fellow was

trying to leave the castle just before dawn. He was challenged by Jeremy, the gatekeeper, who shot him."

"I must prepare a final report for the coroner," explained Hayman, in a troubled tone. "I am anxious that it

should be in proper order. There is no blame upon old Jeremy, as I can see. But since I am riding out to the

TEN minutes later, Delka and Harry were riding with Hayman in a tiny automobile that took the ruts like a

jack rabbit. The cloudy sky was dusking, and gloom enwrapped them when they reached the trees before the

landing field. Then they passed the clearing; and Hayman pointed toward the monoplane, which was moving

"The plane flew in only an hour ago," stated the local inspector. "It had been in London for the day. I heard it

New darkness under the next trees; then the little car skirted to the gateway. Old Jeremy, anxiousfaced,

came out to open the barrier. The gatekeeper bowed as the little car rolled past.

"We sent Jeremy back to his post," stated Hayman. "Mr. Modbury accepted responsibility for him. 'Twas

troubled, I was, about doing so; but the man will not flee. Did I act rightly, Inspector Delka?"

"I can tell later," replied Delka, "after I have learned the full facts about Mund's death."

Hayman drew the tiny car to a stop in front of the darkening castle front. Harry and Delka alighted with the

"'Twas yonder," he stated. "Mund, they say, was clambering from the balcony when Jeremy spied him from

this spot. He fired his fowling piece, Jeremy did, after a command to halt. Mund fell, wounded. The fall, we

The castle door had opened. Luval stepped out and nodded to the visitors. One of the servants was behind the

Delka was looking upward, eyeing the lone turret high above. He turned to Hayman with a query:

"What about that turret? Could Mund have been up there, instead of on the balcony? It is straight above."

"We thought of that, sir," expressed Hayman, "but Mr. Modbury and others discovered the window open in

Luval entered the conversation, just as the servant arrived from the castle, bearing Jeremy's fowling piece.

The secretary handed the weapon to Delka; then spoke words that carried a tone of true conviction.

"THIS weapon," he told Delka, "could never have carried to so great a range as the turret top. Moreover" he

pointed upward "how could anyone have aimed for a person there? See how the battlements project?"

"Clutching the merlons," added Luval. "Besides, there is no way to reach the turret. It is merely an

ornamental addition to the castle. You must remember that this building was erected when few archers

"True," agreed Delka. "Otherwise it would have had many turrets." Then, to Hayman: "I believe that you

have acted in due accordance with the law, Inspector. Jeremy was acting in discharge of his appointed duty.

"We believe that he intended to rob the castle," put in Luval. "He had been acting oddly. We think that he

Delka nodded. The theory was logical enough for acceptance. Others were arriving from the castle: Barton

"Ah! Delka!" exclaimed Modbury, in a tone of surprise. "I am glad to see you back here. Has news of our

"No," replied the C.I.D. man. "I was merely coming back through Yarwick when I met Inspector Hayman. He

"Yes. In every detail. The law has no case against old Jeremy. His story was certainly an honest one."

Another man had arrived to hear the words. It was Francisco Lodera; the Spaniard showed a pleased

expression in the hazy dusk. Then his manner changed as Modbury gave an invitation. Delka was introducing

"Come, all three of you," suggested the diamond king. "Dine with us here at the castle. There are matters

which I should like to discuss with you, Inspector Delka; and you also, Inspector Hayman. I have valuables

Lodera glanced anxiously at Luval. The secretary's face showed nervousness. Then, tensely, Luval gave a

signal to Lodera, to indicate that matters could be handled. The group started into the house, all except

Hayman and Harry. The former wanted to move his automobile from the drive. Harry stood by to join

Something had caused Harry to remain; it was an odd impression that he could not have explained. But the

answer came, when Harry stood alone, there in the blackness that fronted Chiswold Castle. From the gloom

CAUTIOUSLY, Harry spoke in brief fashion. Then came The Shadow's new instructions, delivered in low

tones from a place where he stood invisible. Harry was to watch happenings inside; to signal from a window

should unexpected developments occur. Then he could report when The Shadow arrived to contact.

That was all. There was time for no more. Hayman had parked his tiny car and was returning. Eyes from the

darkness watched Harry go into the castle with the local police inspector. Dusk had settled everywhere; for

the cloudfronted sun was now obscured completely behind the bulk of Chiswold Castle.

Silent and shrouded, The Shadow moved away. He skirted the castle at the stable side and reached the crags

above Castle Cove. Through an opening, he peered toward the lost outline of Parrion Head, the distant

Parrion Head was beyond the far side of the cove; though a long way from the castle, it could be reached by a

twomile walk from the landing field on the other side of the gulch. As The Shadow watched the darkness, a

bluish flame flickered upon Parrion Head. An interval; then the flare was repeated.

The Shadow laughed softly in the darkness. Then, as he spied a third and longer flame, he turned about and

moved toward the front of Chiswold Castle. He was heading for the front trees, where both driveway and

A blink had come from the slitted turret. It was repeated, the flash of an electric torch. The Shadow waited.

Again, the signal came. Once more, The Shadow delivered a whispered laugh. Then he changed his direction.

DINNER had been both prompt and informal within Chiswold Castle. Modbury and his guests had gone

immediately to the table; they were half finished with their meal at the time when The Shadow had left the

Then, during dessert, Barton Modbury had become loquacious. From the head of the table, he started talk of

Mund's death; then, while his listeners were attentive, he had produced a small silver casket and had opened

Delka was on Modbury's right. The Scotland Yard man stared as Modbury poured forth a small pile of

lustrous red gems that sparkled in the shimmering candlelight. Harry and Hayman both showed interest; and

"Fine rubies," explained Modbury, "which I purchased today from Lodera. That was why his plane flew to

"I paid six thousand sovereigns for them," replied Modbury. That, to Harry, meant nearly thirty thousand

"I had to sell them," remarked Lodera. "They represent about all of the fortune that remains to me. I lost a

great deal of valuable property after the revolution in Spain. Next, I shall sell my airplane; then lead an

"Perhaps." Lodera's eyes shifted momentarily toward Gwendolyn, who sat across the table. "Or maybe

somewhere on the continent. I have not quite made up my mind. I think I shall first fly to London say, in a

"Yes," replied the diamond king, "but I am keeping the money in my safe until Lodera requires it. Come we

Delka and Harry went upstairs with Modbury. The South African diamond king opened the safe and showed

the chamois bag, to give a brief display of its contents. He pushed aside the opened stacks of cash and tucked

SIR RODNEY and Lord Cedric were in the great room, talking with Hayman. Delka caught their words; they

were still wondering why Mund had avoided robbery until after making his test of the vines. Harry saw a

"I have it!" he exclaimed. "Tell me, Mr. Modbury, did Mund know that you intended to purchase those

"Because that would have meant a postponement of his burglary. It is quite plain. He wanted to wait until the

"Jove!" exclaimed Sir Rodney. "A clever stroke, Inspector Delka. That explains everything! The scoundrel

"You are right," agreed Modbury, nodding. "Twenty thousand in diamonds; ten thousand in cash; six

thousand in rubies. That sums the total. Last night, Mund was testing a means of escape. Tonight, he intended

"I cannot say." Modbury spoke in troubled fashion, as he considered. Then, brightening: "But there is no need

for further alarm. Mund was the only dishonest person who could possibly have been here in the castle. My

Luval had entered from the hallway, in time to catch the conversation. Harry had noted the bespectacled

secretary's face. Luval had kept a steady front. He sat down at the edge of the group.

Soon, Gwendolyn Ralthorn entered. Francisco Lodera was the only absentee. Five minutes later, he arrived,

smoking a cigarette in the end of his long holder. Harry saw Gwendolyn gaze toward Lodera. The Spaniard

Conversation turned to the morrow's fox hunt. All joined, including both Gwendolyn and Lodera. At one

interval, however, Gwendolyn left the great room and went upstairs. Soon afterward, Lodera strolled out

through the hall. Both returned; but Harry had an idea that each might soon again go out.

Seated between Hayman and Delka, Harry could find no opportunity to leave. Nor did he wish to risk a signal

Gwendolyn and Lodera appeared restless; but they were not the ones who Harry felt needed closest watching.

Harry had concentrated upon Luval; until the secretary made a move, Harry could see no need for action.

Since Luval appeared quite content in an obscure chair near the flickering fireplace, Harry decided to wait.

At intervals, Harry's thoughts turned to The Shadow. He wondered exactly where his cloaked chief was

located at this moment. He thought of various places, among them the gatekeeper's lodge. He rejected it as an

unlikely place; nevertheless, that was where The Shadow stood at that very moment.

Despite the trees, there was one spot near the lodge from which the castle turret could be seen. Watching

from that point, close by the fence, The Shadow had detected a repetition of the blinks. So had Jeremy; for

the old gatekeeper had come out from the lodge. Coming through darkness almost to where The Shadow

stood, Jeremy had spied Nigel's signal. But he had not detected the shrouded being who was present.

JEREMY had gone back into his little house; once again, he had come to the observation post, to mutter in

troubled fashion because he saw no blinks. Then, as the gatekeeper turned to move away, The Shadow's ears

caught the sound of a creeping approach. It was someone else, beside Jeremy; but the gatekeeper did not hear

"'Tis thou," exclaimed the gatekeeper, in an undertone, "come from the gamekeeper's empty cot!"

The tone was that of Amakar, the Afghan. The darkskinned giant was as blanketed as The Shadow, for the

darkness here was thick. Jeremy's words explained a fact which The Shadow had supposed; but had not

investigated by daylight. Amakar had occupied the oneroom building that had been The Shadow's earlier

"Look!" whispered Jeremy, to Amakar. "Master Nigel has sent the signal once more! Aye! 'Tis something he

wishes; but I did not venture. 'Twould not be wise for myself to pass close by the castle."

"He signifies that all is ready," informed Amakar, soberly. "At times apart, my master will send his signal

"I cannot tell. I, Amakar, shall approach and answer. Then will my master tell his need."

Jeremy was blundering in the darkness. Amakar whispered soberly. Jeremy gave a grunt of understanding

and went back to the lodge. The Shadow waited. He heard Amakar move softly forward through the trees.

With amazing precision, the big Afghan was picking a path through the woods, toward the castle. But his

stealth was nothing compared with The Shadow's. Moving forward, the cloaked watcher kept silent pace with

the Afghan. Amakar, because of his own tread, failed to catch the slight sounds behind him.

Amakar reached the outskirts of the trees. He paused; when Nigel blinked again, the Afghan delivered a

strange, highpitched wail. It was like the cry of a night bird, but one that differed from any heard in

England. The wail, however, was restrained. The Shadow knew that Amakar had given it through cupped

Moreover, the Afghan had turned his mouth upward. Through some uncanny ability, he had tuned the cry so

that it scarcely reached the castle. His call had penetrated to Nigel; but it could not have been heard by those

within the castle. Nor would others, by the stable or in the woods, have heard it. Amakar had given his wail a

Blinks from the turret. They were signaling an answer. Nigel had heard. Amakar, understanding orders,

began a new course along the front fringe of the trees. He saw an opened patch of protected ground and

moved across it. Struggling moonlight threw a faint and unexpected glow that revealed the Afghan's bulk.

Amakar stopped as he heard a hiss behind him. Swinging, the Afghan saw a shrouded shape. The Shadow,

too, had stepped from the trees. His hiss had been a challenge to the man. With a bound, Amakar leaped

toward a tree and lowered his arms. The Shadow divined the purpose of his move. This was where Amakar

SWEEPING grotesquely forward, The Shadow came driving into conflict. His arms were wide, in front of

him. Amakar changed tactics. Lunging up from the ground, he shot his huge hands forward, to grapple with

The fighters met, as moonlight faded. Barehanded, they struggled as they had in London. Amakar, huge of

strength, again expected to crush his wiry foe. The Shadow, quick of action, sought means of countering the

In this resumption of the duel, Amakar gained the first grip. As fierce as he had been in Whitechapel, the big

man whirled The Shadow back and forth. With a furious lunge, he sought to fling his adversary against the

nearest tree. The Shadow, however, clung. His choking hands caught Amakar's throat.

The Afghan doubled. The Shadow's feet struck ground. His body twisted; his arms worked like trip hammers.

Amakar went sidewise; then The Shadow's footing failed. The blackcloaked fighter sprawled as Amakar

Regaining his feet, Amakar saw a slowly rising form that sank again in a shapeless fashion. A trickle of

moonlight showed a waver; the shape rose again and faded sidewise. Amakar thought his foe was crippled.

With a ferocious, halfhissed grunt, the mighty Afghan launched in a powerful plunge toward The Shadow.

His sweeping arms gripped nothingness. Plunging forward, Amakar sprawled rolling, his face and shoulders

cluttered in the wrappings of a cloak. The Shadow had tricked him in the manner of a matador; for Amakar

The shape that Amakar had seen had been The Shadow's cloak, raised upward, forward, by a stooping figure

beneath. The Shadow had given the cloak a sidewise shift, which had accounted for the wavering fade.

Amakar had taken the bait. Releasing the cloak, The Shadow had twisted away, just as the Afghan charged.

Had this occurred upon a Whitechapel sidewalk, Amakar would have been stunned when he struck the

Soft turf, however, was Amakar's final lodging. He was dazed by the force of his dive; but still ready for new

Bounding upon his fallen foe, The Shadow caught the big man's throat with one hand. With the other, he

produced an automatic and jabbed the cold muzzle against Amakar's forehead. The Afghan felt the menace of

A WHISPERED laugh sounded above him. The tone was weird; it stilled Amakar's hissed gasps. The

overpowered Afghan expected death; instead, he listened to a voice that spoke in a sinister tone. Not in

English; but in Amakar's own native tongue. The words that Amakar heard amazed him.

When The Shadow's speech was ended, Amakar replied. Unresisting, he blurted Afghan sentences that came

in questioning tones. The Shadow replied. Amakar spoke solemnly. The statement that he gave was so

important that when he had finished, he thought it best to repeat the words in English.

"You have spoken," stated Amakar slowly, looking upward with his head still prone. "I have heard. Your

words bring those things which I did not understand. My mind has learned because your wisdom tells me

"I, Amakar, shall serve you. You are the master; the one who knows. Whenever you speak, I shall obey. The

Soon afterward, a shaft of moonlight showed the amazing sequel to the fray. The glow revealed the cloaked

form of The Shadow moving along the fringe of trees. Behind him, an obedient slave, came the mammoth

The Shadow had gained a double victory. He had overpowered the formidable Afghan; then, triumphant, had

SWIFTLY, steadily, The Shadow chose his course, in the manner of one who had studied the terrain. Passing

the castle, he reached the cliffs above the cove; and all the while Amakar followed, silent and obedient.

Choosing a craggy path, The Shadow skirted the inner end of Castle Cove and turned toward the road that led

between the castle and the aviation field. This course had saved much longer travel.

It was when they left the cove's end that Amakar made his first utterance since his pledge of loyalty.

Tightening his grip upon his rifle, the big man spoke in his native tongue. His words were half a question,

From far away, carried through the funneled stretches of the cove came scraping, thumping sounds that were

barely audible against the distant murmur of the sea. The cove was like a mammoth megaphone; The Shadow

Listening, The Shadow knew that the sounds were far away. Amakar, trained to the ways of the Afghanistan

wilderness, had actually caught the noise before The Shadow. That and the formation of the cove were proofs

The Shadow spoke to Amakar. Obediently, the big man followed. He knew that there was preliminary work

AT a swift pace, The Shadow and his new ally came to the roadway and followed it to the landing field. Dim

The Shadow chose it as his objective. He paced rapidly ahead, with just sufficient noise to guide Amakar, for

clouds had thickened; and the ground obscured The Shadow's figure. When they neared the plane, The

"Head for the castle road," the pilot was ordering. "Lay low and cover. Close in after Lodera and the girl go

"They'll handle their job," returned Dufour. "You'll cover them when they come along. The bunch of you can

"Gonzales will decide that for you. He's with the other crew because it's more important. After you join, he

Buzzes of approval. The men who had congregated with Dufour seemed pleased at this suggestion of an

"The boats should prove all right," he declared, "unless some coast patrollers caught my flares from Parrion

"Parrion Head cannot be seen from the castle. No one would have been on the cliff above the cove. Come!

Dufour moved from the plane, with skulking men behind him. Then came a parting. The pilot was going to

the cottage; his men were turning toward the road, to take their course toward the castle. The Shadow spoke

There were six in that motley band; their low, gruff voices told their number. The Shadow gave them leeway

until they were past the trees. He wanted to be far from Dufour's hearing. Then, when stilled blackness

clustered overheard, The Shadow gave a soft whisper to Amakar. The giant drew up beside him.

The six men were moving slowly. One blinked a flashlight and pointed out the ground about. Bushes formed

clusters beside the road. Here men could spread, yet keep within speaking distance. The ruffian crew was

ready to form an ambush cordon between the castle and the landing field. The time had come for The

The flashlight blinked off. Voices buzzed. Then came a sweeping avalanche in the shape of two forms that

plunged into the clustered thugs. Side by side, The Shadow and Amakar swooped down upon their prey. Two

RUFFIANS spun about at the first sound. The move added to their undoing. The Shadow, gripping the first

foeman in his path, caught the fellow's body and swept it sidewise, like a human batteringram. Before the

helpless man could struggle, The Shadow had piled him upon one of his pals. The two sprawled flat. The

Amakar, his long arms wide, had clutched two ruffians at the same instant. With tremendous strength, he was

whirling them about, handling each with a single arm. One man came from his feet; then sprawled as Amakar

Wheeling, the big Afghan gained a double grip upon the other and hurled him bodily through the air. The

whirling body plunged through bushes in its flight; then thudded against a tree in the darkness. A choked cry

The Shadow had known what the other thugs would do. Had they seen their opponents, they might have

sought flight; but in the darkness, with nowhere to turn, they chose the natural course of pitching in to the

The Shadow had punched one thug into submission; he was holding the other prone, half stooped above him,

The Afghan stood between The Shadow and the new attack. Amakar's bulk came staggering backward as two

attackers struck him before he could regain his balance. The Shadow drove his second adversary downward.

The fellow's head cracked the hard dirt of the road. Then rising, The Shadow twisted inward and fell upon the

One man lost his clutch, turned to battle with The Shadow. Shoulders dropped. The ruffian gave a gloating

cry. Then The Shadow whipped upward and somersaulted his antagonist headlong to the bushy bank. The

Amakar disposed instantly of the final thug. Gripping the fellow with both arms, he raised him high above his

head; then delivered a long, powerful heave. An interval seemed to follow; then came a violent thud in the

The Shadow's flashlight blinked. It picked out the sprawled thugs. Three were still capable of action; though

He rolled the trio close together; their bulging eyes showed horror when they saw the darkened face above

the mammoth shoulders. Ripping away belts and tearing strips from flannel shirts, Amakar began to bind the

With the task half completed, The Shadow moved about with the flashlight. He found the senseless man

whom he had first encountered and pushed the fellow against Amakar's feet. From the furze, he dragged forth

the thug who had ended up against a tree; then, from the road, he brought the man whom Amakar had tossed

An order to Amakar, hissed by The Shadow. The Afghan hoisted the first pair that he had bound and plunged

off through the glade, a burden on each shoulder. He was taking a straight route to the old gamekeeper's cot,

which was only a few hundred yards away. The Shadow finished tying up the next two thugs. He had them

THE SHADOW waited, listening. No sound came from the direction of the castle. Amakar, tireless, returned

with amazing promptness. He lugged away the thugs whom he had finished with his tremendous tosses. This

time, The Shadow, listening, caught faint sounds from the road. He edged into the bushes and hissed as

Skirting the road, they came to the clearing. Amakar crossed, went toward the airplane. The Shadow heard

approaching footsteps; then voices. Two persons had come along the road through the woods. One was

"We are in the clearing," Lodera was saying. "Look, Gwendolyn; see the sky above us."

"The darkness was dreadful," protested the girl. "It was as fearful in the glade as in the castle."

The pair stumbled on through the blackness of the ground. The Shadow heard their footfalls fade. Then came

another, more cautious tread. It was Amakar, returning. The Afghan was lugging Dufour.

He had plucked the sturdy pilot from beside his ship; and had conquered him without allowing a cry. Amakar

never had difficulty with a lone adversary, except the one whom he now acknowledged as his master.

The Shadow ordered Amakar to stow Dufour with the other prisoners; then to meet him near the head of the

cove. Moving toward the plane, The Shadow stopped and turned in the direction of the cottage. Lodera and

Gwendolyn were going there, since they had not found Dufour at the plane. The Shadow could hear their

The two appeared at the lighted doorway of the cottage. The Shadow saw them go in; gliding close, he caught

their words. Lodera was speaking in a tone that showed mingled anger and perplexity.

"Dufour should be here!" was his exclamation. "Where can the fellow be? We cannot take off without him.

"No, no!" protested the girl, excitedly. "I shall not remain alone, Francisco! You must wait with me until

"Very well," agreed Lodera, in a troubled tone. "I shall not leave you, Gwendolyn. But if Dufour does not

The Shadow saw Lodera nod in agreement. The plan was sensible; it was obvious that the Spaniard intended

to adhere to it. The Shadow had no further need to remain. Since Lodera intended to wait for Dufour, it was

plain that he would have to remain at the cottage. The Shadow moved away through the darkness, to rejoin

Lodera, staring from the cottage door, was sharp of gaze. But no eyes could have discerned the cloaked figure

that was gliding away in the darkness. Whatever his opinion of Dufour's absence, Lodera did not suspect the

NIGHT had enwrapped strange doings about Chiswold Castle. The flares from Parrion Head; the blinks from

the turret; The Shadow's fight with Amakar like the succeeding captures of Dufour and his crew all had

Yet something had happened within the castle; and Harry Vincent had noticed it. Francisco Lodera and

Gwendolyn Ralthorn had again departed from the great room downstairs. They had gone separately; and this

Luval had also left; but the secretary's departure had not been voluntary. Barton Modbury had sent him

upstairs to find a booklet that dealt with the subject of the Kimberley diamond mines. Luval was presumably

Chance had it that Hayman decided to go out to his car. The local inspector had remembered a report sheet

which he wished to show to Delka. Harry, looking toward the hallway, saw Hayman go across. Then he saw

the local officer stop short, to listen suspiciously. A moment later, Hayman returned.

"Come to the hall!" he whispered to Modbury. "I hear sounds from upstairs. I caught a glimpse of someone

Modbury arose. Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric followed. Delka motioned to Harry. The entire group went out

into the hallway and approached the stairs. Like a faint echo from above, they heard the sound of creaking

Though the group ascended softly, the sounds of their footsteps was audible. When they arrived on the

second floor, they found the hallway empty. The only opened door was that of the front room. Hayman

They went to the study door. Modbury opened it. Luval peered out from a closet, where he was deep in a

stack of boxes, hunting for the Kimberley booklet. When he saw the group, Luval dumped pamphlets back

"No, sir," replied Luval. "I closed the door when I came into the study. Were the sounds from the hall?"

Luval's lips tightened. Harry thought that he detected a worried look upon the secretary's face. But no one

SUSPICION tinged Sir Rodney's tone. Lord Cedric Lorthing showed immediate support. He looked about the

Sir Rodney's face showed anger. He strode to the door and shouted. He called Gwendolyn's name; hearing no

reply, he crossed to the girl's room and pounded the door. At last he opened the barrier and turned on the

"Gwendolyn is gone!" stormed Sir Rodney. "She has eloped with that Spaniard, Lodera! I feared that

"Lodera may still be here," broke in Delka. "Hayman saw someone on the stairs. Suppose we search for him."

"Let us go to the landing field!" roared Sir Rodney. "We must seize Lodera's plane "

"One moment." It was Modbury who interposed. He was staring sternly toward Luval; and the secretary was

Luval reached into his pocket. He drew forth an envelope. He approached Sir Rodney, handed him the object.

Sir Rodney recognized Gwendolyn's handwriting. He ripped open the envelope and read the message.

"I am right," he bellowed. "The girl has fled! Come! To the plane's landing field!"

Servants had arrived in the hall, brought upstairs by the commotion. Modbury motioned everyone into the

"One moment, Sir Rodney," insisted the diamond king. "Let us make sure of this. Luval how much more do

"It is too late to stop them, sir," confessed the secretary. "They have been gone half an hour. I knew their

"I felt that it concerned Miss Gwendolyn only. She asked for my promise. I could not refuse."

"You are a fool, Luval. Nevertheless, we cannot hold you to great blame. The plane has gone by this time.

"They have probably flown to the continent," put in Delka. "They could land anywhere. You are right, Mr.

"I advised against it," protested Luval. "I told Miss Gwendolyn that I did not trust Lodera "

"Only regarding promises," put in the secretary, hastily. "Do not misunderstand me. I thought Lodera honest.

I merely believed that he might have made false claims about his social position, because he knew that Lord

MODBURY expressed satisfaction with Luval's statement; but Sir Rodney came through with an objection.

"The fellow is a blackguard!" he cried. "Such a man would stop at nothing! He has behaved in an outrageous

fashion! Only last night, he ventured into this room without permission. That was when you should have

"And where was he tonight?" demanded Lord Cedric, hotly. "Going in and out of the great room. I would

"I could not say, sir," replied the secretary. "He may have come here, however. I saw him coming downstairs

Modbury yanked open the desk drawer. He fumbled among papers there. His eyes showed excitement. He

"The card is gone!" exclaimed Modbury. "I meant to have you destroy it; but I forgot. If Lodera took it, he

Modbury stopped short as he pulled the safe door open. Then, with a rumbled cry, he raised up and pointed

"Lodera's work!" bellowed the diamond king. "He was the one who waited for tonight! Not Mund; but

"He may have taken his cue from Mund," put in Delka, hurrying over to study the rifled safe. "That is the

"Except to get them out of London," stormed Modbury, "and to lull us by bringing them here!"

HAYMAN had grabbed Luval. The secretary was sinking into a chair, his hands raised pleadingly.

Modbury heard Luval's appeal. His rage subsided; his face became stern but kindly. He motioned Hayman to

"Luval is honest," assured Modbury. "I am sure that he would not betray me. He had access to the safe. I have

"I swear to it," repeated Luval. "I plotted, yes; but not toward crime. I knew that the elopement was due to

come. I could not have prevented it. I was for Lodera, up until tonight; then suddenly I began to mistrust him.

"I believed that he was duping Miss Gwendolyn; but I knew also that her decision was made. I have been a

"No more to blame than the rest of us," inserted Modbury. "We caught Lodera redhanded last night; yet we

Modbury began to question the servants. None had seen Lodera and Gwendolyn leave the castle. After a brief

"We must drive to Yarwick," he decided. "From there you can call London, since there is no telephone here.

This is a case for Scotland Yard. I shall go with you; we can stop at the landing field on the way."

"With a certainty," added Sir Rodney. "Yes, with a certainty that we shall find the plane gone. Well,

Modbury, my sympathy is with you. After all, my daughter had a right to marry whom she chose. But you

"Your daughter has married a rogue," returned Modbury, sadly. "You are the one who deserves the sympathy,

Delka, with Hayman, had turned toward the door. Harry Vincent saw the C.I.D. man pause. The barrier was

slightly ajar. Delka must have suspected that someone was on the other side. With a sweep, he yanked the

door open and sprang straight toward the hall. He was in time to clutch a stooping man, before the fellow

HAYMAN leaped to Delka's aid. Together, they dragged the intruder into the light. Startled cries came from

Harry saw a wild look in Luval's eyes. One that he could understand, for Harry, too, was frozen in

Palefaced, weary in the arms of his captors, the intruder at the door looked like a veritable ghost. That was

what those in the room half believed him to be. Not one had ever expected to see that countenance again in

The prisoner was Nigel Chiswold, down from the turret room. Even in this light, he could easily be taken for

another. Feature for feature, Nigel remained the image of his dead cousin Geoffrey, the former master of

DELKA and Hayman were the last to see the face of the man whom they had snared. Dragging Nigel into the

study, they had thrust him forward; hence they were behind his shoulders. It was the consternation reigning

on other faces that caused both captors to realize that they had gained a startling prize.

Hayman, twisting past Nigel, stared at the prisoner's face. A look of incredulity came over the local inspector.

Delka spun Nigel toward him. The Scotland Yard man stared in amazement. He had seen Geoffrey's dead

face in a London morgue. Here was the same countenance a countenance representing the features of a

Sir Rodney Ralthorn, stepping forward, was quick to clutch Nigel by the shoulders. Studying the prisoner's

visage, Sir Roger nodded, as though he understood. Then, turning to the others, he stated:

"It is Geoffrey Chiswold, returned. Let us be thankful that the rumor was wrong. Geoffrey, we thought that

Sir Rodney dropped back at the sound of the voice, so like Geoffrey's. Lord Cedric recognized the tone also;

his eyes blinked, and his monocle dropped to his waistcoat. Barton Modbury sank back in his chair, half

Nigel shook himself from Delka's grasp. Hayman made a grab; but Delka motioned him back. There was no

Harry produced some cigarettes. Nigel lighted one and puffed serenely. The layman started to speak to Delka;

"Good!" Nigel took another long drag from the cigarette. "You are the very man to hear my story. I am Nigel

"I thought so." Delka's tone was firm as he nodded. "That idea just struck me. I saw Geoffrey's body in

London. So you are Nigel Chiswold, back from India. You have been in England for some time, haven't

"No," replied Nigel. "My paleness was due to the fever in Bombay. I came home on sick leave. I arrived just

after a series of robberies had been committed in London. Those crimes impressed me; because I knew who

TENSENESS had set upon all within the room. Delka stopped a buzz with a wave of his hand. He wanted to

"Clandermoor's Kelgood's Bond Street Darriol's the SmithRighterstone's" Nigel changed his

enumeration "gold plates portraits jewels jade vases tiaras and tapestries. I knew about them all

from the past. But there was someone who knew more than I; someone who could have told exactly where

"Yes," answered Nigel, "I guessed that he was in back of the robberies. That is why I looked for Geoffrey in

"No, near St. James Square. I talked to him, intimated what I knew. Geoffrey was cagey. He had the cheek to

Lord Cedric started to drawl a question. Delka called for silence. Nigel resumed.

"Geoffrey was leaving England," he said, tersely. "That fact troubled me. I realized that he had done his job;

that a master crook was behind him. So, afterward, I sent my Afghan servant, Amakar, to find Geoffrey, with

instructions to capture Jeff and bring him to me. Just as he captured Sannarak, the famous outlaw, at Khyber

"I have heard of Sannarak's capture!" exclaimed Sir Rodney. "He was the troublemaker who was brought to

Calcutta; and afterward released, when he named Jahata Bey as the rogue behind the secret insurrections."

"Right," nodded Nigel, "and I intended to question Jeff as they did Sannarak. Unfortunately, Amakar failed to

capture my wayward cousin. Geoffrey was murdered in Whitechapel, while Amakar was still on his trail."

HARRY VINCENT stared. Nigel's story was convincing. Harry remembered that surge of men who had

come hurtling from the steps of the Whitechapel house. He realized that Geoffrey, already stabbed, could not

Harry had mistaken the big Afghan for an assassin. Then The Shadow had come to Harry's rescue. Amakar

had fled; did The Shadow know that the Afghan was innocent of wrong? Had Harry been outside the castle

tonight, he would have gained evidence of The Shadow's knowledge. The Shadow had divined the truth. That

"Geoffrey was no longer useful to the master rogue who duped him," resumed Nigel. "That was why he was

"Right!" exclaimed Delka. "It fits! I wondered what he was doing in that district. He must have gone there

expecting to receive full payment for his part in crime. Instead, he was eliminated."

Again, Harry pondered. Delka had guessed this answer. Had The Shadow divined it previously? Harry felt

"Geoffrey had sold this castle," resumed Nigel. "He warned me not to come here. He even continued his

nervy bluff to the point of saying that I might be out to rob Modbury. I saw through it. I sensed that the

master crook must be here, intending to do such a job himself. My task was to offset it.

"I intended to inform the law. First, however, I needed facts. I came here, wearing a mask, for my face so

like Geoffrey's would have been recognized in Yarwick. I stopped, temporarily, at the Prince William Inn."

DELKA smiled sourly. He thought that this explained the mystery of Professor Roderick Danglar. However,

he chose to let the subject pass, which was fortunate, to Harry's way of thinking. Both Nigel and Delka would

"Through a hidden opening in the rocks above Castle Cove," explained Nigel, "then through a vault below

the castle; a place arranged to hide a company of soldiers in the days of the pretender. I ascended a spiral

staircase, straight up to the lone turret, where I occupied a secret chamber known as the spy room."

"Only Geoffrey. But he had informed the master crook. I gained evidence of that; and I learned that the man

"Silence!" ordered Modbury, in an indignant tone. "This refutes your story, Luval. You are in this deeply!"

"I do not think so," inserted Nigel, extinguishing his cigarette in an ash stand and reaching for another that

Harry tendered. "Jeff was duped; and Luval could have been likewise. From the little that I heard, it looks as

"Gwendolyn saw me last night," added Nigel, "and thought that I was Geoffrey's ghost. Mund saw me also;

and recognized me, for he was an old servant here. I fled back into the turret. Toward dawn, I signaled."

"To Jeremy," replied Nigel, "because he had my confidence. Also I had expected Amakar. I was atop the

turret; suddenly, Mund arrived. He tried to knife me. Amakar saw us against the sky; and finished the fellow

"He did?" Nigel's eyes lighted. "Good, faithful Jeremy. I had an idea that he had managed things somehow, to

cover Amakar. However, I barricaded myself in the turret. Tonight, I flashed signals again."

"Yes. I wanted him to come through the secret way and up into the turret. He has not arrived; if he is about,

he is probably waiting. He does not know why I signaled for him, particularly because I did not urge haste."

Delka's sharp question showed that he had detected a significance in Nigel's tone. The young man smiled.

"Yes," he nodded, "a most important reason. I saw signal flares over upon Parrion Head. It was only by

chance that I spied them from a slitted opening of the turret; but I knew their purpose."

"Flares were used there, in the days of the pretender, to bring men hidden in the inlet past Parrion Head.

Another of Geoffrey's confidences in Lodera, I decided. That pilot at the landing field must have sent up the

flares. Men are coming here to Chiswold Castle, to enter the secret vault from the passage by the cove.

"Wait. Hear me out." Nigel smiled serenely. "Geoffrey did not know the difficulties of boating through the

cove. I did, for I navigated it often. It will take much longer than Lodera supposed. Men could have landed

already on the far shore of the cove; but not on this side. They are not yet here from Parrion Head."

"But Lodera is gone!" stormed Modbury. "His plane has had time to take to the air. He is the man we must

"And we are too late," inserted Sir Rodney, angrily. "Too late to save Gwendolyn. Why did you not come

"Lodera is not yet gone," replied Nigel, with a shrewd, wise smile. "He has to wait until his men complete

their work; until they carry their burdens from the castle, then place the cargo aboard the plane."

NIGEL leaned forward and advanced his right hand in a dramatic fashion. Harry Vincent could feel the spell

"The swag from London," declared Nigel, emphatically. "The wealth that I expected to find here, once I knew

of Geoffrey's complicity. The treasures that I knew would be more important to Lodera than the jewels and

"Gold plates portraits jewels vases tiaras tapestries all are stored below, in the place where I shall

lead you. Three hundred thousand sovereigns' worth of swag, almost ten times the amount of wealth that

"Not too heavy not too bulky. It's an easy load for Lodera's powerful plane. Lodera has duped your

daughter, Sir Rodney. She has gone, to become the thieving Spaniard's bride. But Lodera, at this minute, is

"He is waiting at the landing field, wondering why his men are so belated, not knowing how long it takes to

land at Chiswold Castle after a trip from Parrion Head. Lodera will not go until he has his stolen wealth."

Pausing, Nigel turned deliberately, swung open the door to the hall. He pointed in the direction of the front

"The path is open to the vault below," announced Nigel. "Follow me, and find the proof of all that I have

SUDDEN exclamations burst from many lips. This time Delka raised no hand for silence. The dramatic finish

of Nigel Chiswold's story had left the Scotland Yard man utterly dumfounded. Then, to Delka's ears came

"To the landing field!" Sir Rodney was shouting. "We must capture Lodera! At once!"

"Hold on!" Hayman had entered the argument. "We must not forget that men are coming here below!"

"A double attack!" put in Lord Cedric, coming from out of his shell. "Jove! We should do both!"

"Hear me!" boomed Modbury, in a commanding tone. Then, as excitement stopped, he turned to Luval. "Here

is your chance to show your colors, Luval. Go and unlock the door of the gun room. Take the servants with

He passed a key to Luval. The secretary dashed out willingly, followed by a flood of servants.

"Our first task lies below!" exclaimed Modbury. "Once we have trapped this boat crew of Lodera's, the rest

will be swift. We can capture Lodera." He turned to Sir Rodney: "And with no harm to your daughter

Sir Rodney stared puzzled, along with Lord Cedric. Harry Vincent caught the thought, however, and so did

"Excellent!" affirmed Delka. "We can capture the crew by ambush. Then we, ourselves, can go to the landing

field. Lodera will think his own men are arriving. We shall trap him with Dufour. The girl will be unharmed."

"Right, Delka!" approved Hayman. "As representative of the local authorities, we must use our full strength

for that ambush. 'Twould be folly to break forces and send some to the landing field too early."

The servants were returning with the weapons. Revolvers, rifles, a varied assortment from which all could

choose. Each man picked his weapon; Nigel then gestured impatiently toward the front room. Accepting him

The paneled wall was open. Nigel stepped through to the staircase. Modbury gave a hoarse whisper.

"Two of my servants should remain here," he suggested. "They can cover us in case Lodera or some others

"Good," approved Hayman. Then, turning to Delka, said, "You shall be our leader, Inspector"

Delka nodded to Modbury, to place two men on guard. Nigel was wagging a flashlight from the spiral stairs.

THE corkscrew steps led to musty depths. The journey resembled a visit to an ancient tomb. Nigel's blinking

torch stirred flapping bats from nesting places. These creatures flipped blindly upward while descending men

Nigel extinguished his torch for the final stage of the descent. Then his carefully treading feet struck stone

instead of iron. He whispered for silence. The others heard him creep forward. Finally, his flashlight came on

Harry Vincent, next to Delka, was astounded by the size of this lower room. The vault was hollowed from the

very rock upon which the castle stood. Its ceiling was high; its length and breadth were great. Nigel's

At the far end of the chamber was a blocking barrier of wood, with a metal sheathing. It served only as

protection against the elements, for its hinges were weak; its lock was useless. Nigel whispered an echoed

"Rocks hide the entrance," he said. "Only those who know of the door can find it. Geoffrey knew; so did I.

He told Lodera, while I explained the way to Amakar. If my servant comes, you will recognize him. He is

NIGEL'S light blinked on a stack of boxes at the side of the vault. He led the way and ripped back canvas

sides to reveal the slats of crates. He tore at paper wrappings. Gold plates glittered under his light.

Delka, stooping, spied painted canvas in another crate. Square boxes, wedged in place, were containers for

jewels and tiaras. Nigel raised one lid to show a sparkle of gems. Hayman ripped heavy paper from a

Delka clapped Nigel on the shoulder. The Scotland Yard man was pleased. Wheeling about, he began to post

his men. He took one side, with Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric. He sent Hayman to the other, accompanied by

Modbury and Luval had four servants with them. Delka indicated that they were to guard the inner depths, at

"Keep contact with the two upstairs," ordered the C.I.D. man. "One man will do as messenger between."

Modbury spoke to Hasslett. The chauffeur had happened to be in the castle when the robbery of the safe had

been discovered. Hasslett became the messenger. Delka gave word for the lights to be extinguished. In the

"Let them enter. Once they are well inside, give them lights and cover them. If they throw a torchlight toward

Echoes died. Solemn silence persisted through the vault. Nigel, close to Harry, buzzed that the wait would not

be a long one. Tenseness continued; only the trifling sound of Hasslett's footsteps could be heard from the

A click. Light flooded the vault, from incandescents set deep in the high ceiling. Powerful bulbs had flashed

from everywhere, exposing all within the underground room. A harsh snarl echoed; not from the outer door,

but from the innermost spot, at the spiral stairs. Delka and Hayman wheeled, their companions with them.

Modbury's servants had crept forward, joined by the men from above. With leveled revolvers, they were

covering both groups at the sides. Centered between were two gloating men, each with a raised rifle.

NO words were needed to explain the changed situation. Barton Modbury's large face had taken on an evil

glare which he had managed to suppress in the past. He stood revealed as a murderous master of crime, while

Luval, his teeth gleaming in a leering grin, proclaimed himself as the master rogue's lieutenant.

Modbury's rasp was menacing. Hayman and Delka dropped their revolvers; those beside them did the same.

"Fools!" sneered Modbury. "Not one of you would have guessed my game had Nigel Chiswold not blundered

"I came to England bent on robbery. I wanted a tool. Geoffrey Chiswold served. He knew the places to rifle.

He worked with my gang in London. But not until after I had bought Chiswold Castle; then had learned its

"The swag came here, shipped with my new furnishings. Luval and these servants stored it here below. Mund

was also in my employ, for we kept him after the old servants were gone. We knew Mund for one of our own

"I invited guests to serve me as new dupes. You, Sir Rodney and you, Lord Cedric. The pair of you would do

to vouch for my integrity. But that was not all. I wanted another; I chose Francisco Lodera, because I knew

"Geoffrey gave me all these details. He planned with me. I needed a way to get the swag from England.

Lodera had a plane; I saw to it that Dufour was recommended as a pilot. Dufour is another of my men."

"Luval talked to Lodera," he added, "and offered to help him sell me the rubies and elope with Gwendolyn.

Lodera fell into the snare. He needed money; he wanted the girl. All the while, we were framing him.

"I wanted him to be branded as a thief who had robbed me not too much, however, for I did not want him to

be classed as a crook with a great capacity. The jewels and the money were just right; for they would have

"What was to happen to Lodera? It has already begun. His fate and the girl's are settled. They were seized

on their way to the landing field. Bound and gagged, they are aboard the plane. The swag will go there also.

"Dufour will fly to the continent and there unload the massed wealth for disposal. He will fly back to the

coast, take to the chute, then let the plane crash with Lodera and Gwendolyn aboard. They will be found later,

"No one will ever know that the spoils of London robberies went from England aboard that ship. I shall return

to South Africa. There I shall receive the bulk of the money that the swag will bring."

"I SPOKE of matters as they were to be," he growled. "I had Geoffrey murdered after he was no longer

useful. He went to Whitechapel, expecting payment, then received death instead. His former crew killed him

the men who had aided him in robbery and murder and they came here, to lie in wait above Parrion Head.

"I had not reckoned with Nigel. When he bobbed up, Mund saw him and explained matters to Luval in the

study. Later, I talked with Mund. He was kindling my study fire. I deputed Mund to murder Nigel; then to

"Old Jeremy fooled us. Neither Luval nor I knew that Mund had gone to the roof of the turret. We thought

that he had finished Nigel in the spy room, for he had no knife upon him. We actually believed Jeremy's

"All was well tonight. We planted the blame on Lodera; but chance brought the issue too soon. I was

delaying, pretending that there would be no hope of catching Lodera. I wanted to give my boat crew time to

"When Nigel reappeared, the game was finished; at the very time when I had removed blame from Luval.

The moment Nigel told that the London swag was in this vault, my plan was ruined. Why? Because the great

point to conceal was the fact that the stolen goods were ever in this castle, or had ever been here.

"I had but one remaining course. To speed all of you into following Nigel. To make this vault a trap, where

all of you will die and remain forgotten. As soon as the spoils have been removed, I and my servants shall

"Fools! Had anyone examined facts, he might have found the clues. Geoffrey, to begin with; then his death in

Whitechapel. My furnishings in the great room. Luval plotting with Lodera, duping him all the while. How

could Lodera have been the master crook, while I owned this castle and held full control?

"Luval talked to Mund; but Lodera did not. Luval talked with me; so did Mund. You fled too quickly to your

turret, Nigel. Had you remained, you would not have made the mistake that you did. Had anyone of keenness

examined all angles of my scheme, he would have guessed that I was the brain behind it.

"But no one was close enough; nor shrewd enough. You knew a little, Delka; but it was too little. You were

less informed than Nigel. You knew nothing, Hayman. Why do you think I covered Jeremy? I shall tell you.

Because the fellow had unwittingly rendered me a service at least so I thought in finishing Mund, who

"Jeremy will be handled later" Modbury clucked in an evil fashion "and he will lead us to the hiding

"We have new plans, and they are completed; all successfully arranged, because no one was capable of

noting the points that I have mentioned. Those points and many others all so perfectly covered that I held

"Until Nigel blundered. Nigel, the only one who might have guessed the truth. A proof that no one in the

world could have divined my schemes. None of you need look for rescue. It is hopeless "

A LAUGH had quivered through the vault, a mighty taunt that awoke horrendous echoes. A burst of

challenging mirth that swept from the darkness by the forgotten outer door, the spot where Modbury had

Swinging into the light of the vault's brilliant center was a figure cloaked in black. Harry Vincent gasped his

No one, Modbury had said, could have known the depth of crime. Modbury was wrong. The Shadow had

long since guessed the game, through the very clues that the master villain had claimed no one could gain!

THE SHADOW, like Modbury, had planned with thorough purpose. A hidden being in the darkness, he had

matched every move that the master crook had made. He had tabulated every fact that Modbury had

Upon that first night in the vicinity of Chiswold Castle, The Shadow had observed the meeting between Nigel

and old Jeremy. He had heard Nigel's story, had recognized it as the truth. Nigel's mention of the vault below

the castle, with the spy room in the turret above, had been sufficient to inform The Shadow that swag must be

Listening to Lodera's talk with Luval; watching the moves by Nigel, The Shadow had recognized at once that

Lodera was a dupe. He had known that Luval, like Geoffrey, was too small to be the master crook; that some

Crime in London the purchase of the castle the choice of guests who fitted perfectly into the scheme.

Only one plotter could have framed the game. That one was Barton Modbury. No deepdyed villainy could

have been hatched and carried through without an inkling reaching the selfstyled diamond king.

Modbury's close adherence to Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric had shown The Shadow that the supercrook was

The Shadow, sole witness to the fray between Nigel and Mund, had been ready to protect Nigel. Amakar had

saved him that necessity, by the longrange rifle shot. Listening later, The Shadow had heard Jeremy's bluff.

It had passed with both Modbury and Luval. The Shadow had known that Nigel would be safe; for rogues

To counter Modbury's evil schemes, The Shadow had chosen Amakar as an aid, knowing the strength and

loyalty of the big Afghan. The Shadow had recognized Amakar's true worth that night in Whitechapel. He

had fought Amakar then, only because of Harry's blunder. Both Harry and Amakar had been mistaken; each

The Shadow's words to Amakar, tonight, outside the castle, had been given in support of Nigel Chiswold.

That was why Amakar had accepted The Shadow as his master. Together, they had set out upon a triple

First, to deal with rogues at the landing field, Dufour included. Then, to intercept and overpower the crew

that was coming for the swag. Finally, to enter the castle, bring Nigel from the turret, and unmask Modbury

ONE man had unwittingly ruined The Shadow's threefold plan. He was the very one who had also thrown

chaos into Modbury's scheme; namely, Nigel Chiswold. Neither The Shadow nor Amakar had learned that

Nigel had seen the flares from Parrion Head. There had been no call for haste when Nigel had signaled

Coming back from the end of Castle Cove, The Shadow had chosen a spot outside the secret entrance to the

vault, which Amakar informed by Nigel had shown to him. There he was in wait for the belated landing

crew. As Nigel had guessed, Modbury's mob had struck trouble with the rocks. They were still picking their

Posted some distance from the hidden entrance to the vault, The Shadow had not detected the first glimmer of

flashlights from within, nor had he heard the sound of whispered talk. But when Modbury had clicked the

light switch from beneath the spiral stairs, The Shadow had spotted the lines of glow from the edges of the

The Shadow had known the answer. Modbury. Servants of the master crook had installed those lights; and

only Modbury would have risked their use. His outside men were coming; glimmering edges of light would

hasten them, when they observed the glow. But Modbury had drawn a foe whose presence he had not

Approaching, The Shadow had dropped to the level of the secret door. He had edged past the broken barrier.

Creeping inward, he had chosen the right moment for action. In uncanny fashion, he had revealed his

Modbury and Luval, their rifles half lowered, were caught flatfooted. The servants evil thugs in disguise

were more ready than the crooked chief and his bespectacled lieutenant. Those minions whirled when they

heard Modbury's snarled gasp. Following their master's glaring gaze, they saw The Shadow.

This was the move that The Shadow wanted; the one that he had forced. His automatics were ready in his

fists, pointing outward at an angle. His fingers pressed their triggers just as Modbury's henchmen aimed to

ROARS boomed through the vault as big automatics stabbed their message. With The Shadow's shots came

the answering barks of revolvers. Thugs were surging forward, shooting wildly as they came. The Shadow

Slugs found living marks with every jab, while hurried bullets from thuggripped guns were sizzling close

It was The Shadow's battle; and he would have cleared the field, but for the action of the men whom he had

come to rescue. Of those huddled prisoners, only two used their heads: Eric Delka and Harry Vincent.

The Scotland Yard man and The Shadow's agent were at opposite stations. Both dropped to the floor and

snatched up their lost pistols, to deliver a flanking fire that would break the surge of Modbury's eight

Sir Rodney and Lord Cedric from one side; Hayman and Nigel from the other all four leaped forward

weaponless to grapple with the driving mob. Before The Shadow could wither more than half of his

Instead of four thugs charging hopelessly against a cannonade, there was a cluster of fierce, fighting men.

Harry and Delka gained a simultaneous thought. From opposite sides, they pitched into the milling throng.

Four unarmed men were wrestling valiantly to drag guns away from crooks. The odds were against success;

but Harry and Delka changed the tide. Snatching at thugs, they used their guns as bludgeons, to smash down

Men sprawled everywhere, rolling, scrambling; while muffled gunshots told that tumbled crooks were trying

to use their guns against the fighters who had downed them. Delka slugged one thug who wrested free from

As he rolled, slashing at his antagonist, Harry saw both sides of another duel. Modbury and Luval had sprung

forward with their rifles, under cover of the sprawling forms in the center of the floor. Then, as the path

Two against one. The Shadow's guns were leveled. But Modbury, shrewd in strategy, had chosen a position

of security. He had dropped behind Luval; half crouched, the master crook had thrust his rifle barrel beneath

Two rifles were about to spurt as one. Should The Shadow beat them to the shots, it would be of no avail. His

As he had sacrificed Geoffrey and Mund, so would Modbury let Luval die in this emergency. Luval, intent

In that tense instant, The Shadow fired. With splitsecond swiftness, he ripped bullets toward his foemen,

while their fingers were still on the move. Luval was the only target; yet Modbury never fired in return.

Timed to the instant with The Shadow's gun bursts came a sharp crackle from the outer door. Amakar had

followed The Shadow. The huge Afghan had thrust the broken barrier aside, to arrive just before the climax

Amakar, like Harry, had seen the final duel in the making. He had raised his rifle; like The Shadow, he had

AMAKAR'S highpowered gun possessed a quality that The Shadow's automatics lacked. Luval's body

could stop the bullets from The Shadow's pistols; but a human form was tissue against a closerange fire

Amakar had aimed for Modbury, through Luval. The Afghan, like The Shadow, had beaten the foemen to the

shot. His timely bullet, winging through Luval's breast, found its lodging in the man beyond.

Luval was sprawling crazily, after a backward stagger. His rifle had clattered to the stone floor. Modbury had

straightened; but his gun was lowered. Nerveless fingers clutched it, while bulging eyes stared glassy from a

Lips, curling uglily, sought to deliver a defiant snarl. They failed. Amakar's steeljacketed missive had done

The master criminal, like his lieutenant, was dead. The Shadow and Amakar had gained a simultaneous

A SINISTER laugh wakened the echoes of the vault. A knell from hidden lips, that told of valiant victory.

That mirth was solemn as a knell; for it betokened the delivery of doom that was deserved.

The Shadow had spotted the source of deeplaid crime. He had interposed to rescue trapped men from certain

death. Backed by Amakar, he had completed a swift victory. All that remained was to end the efforts of

Not those who were still here in the vault; for their struggles had ceased. The battle on the floor was ended.

The last of Modbury's servants had succumbed. The Shadow turned and spoke to Amakar. The mammoth

Thanks to the intervention of Harry and Delka, the stubborn crooks had been unable to dispatch any of the

Lord Cedric Lorthing had received a bullet in his left shoulder; but he was managing to come to his feet,

Nigel Chiswold was uninjured; and he was also giving aid to a companion who was weakly rising. This was

Hayman, wounded less seriously than Lord Cedric, but dazed from the furious fray. Hayman was clutching

Harry Vincent, rising from above a crook whom he had subdued, was quick with a call to Eric Delka.

Looking toward the outer door, Harry had seen The Shadow wheel. With Amakar beside him, the cloaked

Leaving Nigel Chiswold and Sir Rodney in charge of the vault, Harry and Delka dashed for the secret door.

Past the broken barrier, they clambered upon the ledge that partially hid the opening. Lights were blinking on

Harry and Delka saw the issue. The Shadow and Amakar had separated. One from each side, they were

flanking the delayed crew from the boat. Savagely, thugs returned the fire of booming automatics and

Crooks sprawled wounded. As the flankers cut in behind them, those who were still unscathed came

Flashlights spotted them when they reached the ledge. Delka's growled order stopped them. A quartet of

vanquished ruffians threw up their hands. Delka and Harry marched them into the vault.

While they were lining up the prisoners, Amakar arrived, carrying two wounded prisoners from the cliff. The

Afghan deposited his burdens on the floor; then solemnly went out to bring in more.

He made no comment while he performed this action. Amakar was acting under final orders. When he had

brought in four other groaning captives, Amakar stood before Nigel Chiswold and delivered a salaam.

The bow meant that three trips were all that Amakar needed. It meant also Harry Vincent understood that

Amakar's service with The Shadow was ended. The master of darkness had told Amakar to join those within

LATER, rescued men thronged the great room of Chiswold Castle. They had left the dead below; they had

made the prisoners carry the wounded up the spiral stairway. Hard upon their assembly into the great room

came the chug of motors from the front driveway; then pounding fists at the great door. Backed by Amakar,

Men had come from Yarwick. Local police and physicians, as well as the coroner. With them were the two

who had summoned this aid: Francisco Lodera and Gwendolyn Ralthorn. Then came old Jeremy, with news

of prisoners in the gamekeeper's lodge. With a smile, Lodera informed that men had already dropped off to

"Dufour is among them," explained the Spaniard. "He had a small automobile in back of the cottage. We

"By a ghost," smiled Lodera. "At least by someone whom Gwendolyn thought was a ghost."

"The weird person whom I saw upon the lawn!" exclaimed the girl. "He spoke to us at Dufour's cottage. He

told us about Nigel Chiswold being here at the castle. He said that Barton Modbury was a plotter who had

Pausing, Gwendolyn looked about for her father. At that moment, Sir Rodney appeared from upstairs.

Happily, he embraced his daughter with one arm; then, from beneath the other, he produced a package that he

"I found these stowed deep in the filing cabinet," said Sir Rodney to Delka. "The diamonds, the rubies, and

"At Modbury's order," added Lodera. "We were told that also. We were to look for the gems and the money.

He paused. Already, heavy footsteps were descending the stairs. Amakar had directed men to the vault. They

were bringing the first crates from below, up by the spiral stairway, which was wide enough for the long

"This settles everything," chuckled Delka from the doorway, while he watched men from Yarwick pry open

the first box and draw out stacks of gold plates. "All the stolen goods are intact. Modbury was smart enough

to preserve everything. He wanted to dispose of his spoils at full value, on the continent. Yes, everything is

IT was Lord Cedric Lorthing who drawled the statement. A physician had just finished binding his shoulder;

though pale, Lord Cedric smiled as he adjusted his monocle. He approached Lodera and thrust forward his

"Congratulations," remarked Lord Cedric. "We did you an injustice, Francisco. Since Gwendolyn chose to

elope with you, there is no question regarding whom she loves. Accept my wishes for a happy marriage."

Gwendolyn looked toward her father. Sir Rodney nodded his approval. Smiling happily, the girl nestled

"You are right, Inspector," nodded Lord Cedric, to Delka. "All is settled to everyone's satisfaction."

Hardly had he spoken, before a rhythmic buzz sounded from above the castle. Delka started for the front

door; and others followed. Lodera and Gwendolyn joined the group, with an explanation.

"It is my plane," stated Lodera, "our friend has taken it to London. He told me that the ship will be left at

Twinkling lights against the darkened sky; at last, a broadwinged shape that swept beneath a faint trail of

momentary moonlight. A blackened token high against the clouds, the departing plane seemed symbolic of

Eric Delka watched from Harry Vincent's side, as they stood upon the porch. Light from the doorway showed

the set smile upon the Scotland Yard man's lips. Delka, like Harry, had long since recognized The Shadow's

Two others watched; their silence betokened different thoughts. One was Nigel Chiswold; his face was one

that registered deep gratitude. Nigel had seen the avenging of Geoffrey's death; the finish of Barton Modbury,

Deep had been Nigel's regard for Geoffrey, despite the latter's weakness. Nigel had come with hope of

making amends for Geoffrey's misdeeds. His wish had been realized, thanks to The Shadow. Moreover, the

settlement with Barton Modbury had paved the way for Nigel to gain an unexpected reward.

Instead of being a man who needed protection; Modbury had proven to be the hidden plotter, whose

transactions would be repudiated by the law. Nigel Chiswold would soon receive a heritage. He would be

THE other who watched was Amakar. Whatever the Afghan's memories of the past; whatever his desire for

the future, no one could have told; for Amakar's face was steady and expressionless.

One gesture alone betokened Amakar's respect for the cloaked master whom the Afghan had served; and the

Then Amakar raised his huge right hand to his forehead. Slowly, in native fashion, he delivered a last salute.

Harry Vincent, turning at the door, was the only person who observed the action.

Harry Vincent understood. The giant Afghan would not forget the mighty prowess of that cloaked leader

whom he had followed and served amid successful frays. Nor would The Shadow forget the aid that his ally

That was something that Amakar knew. That last salute had become the Afghan's privilege. In that gesture

was embodied the respect of all who had profited by The Shadow's deed. This was the final tribute.