CRIME, INSURED .............................................................................................................................................1

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

CHAPTER I. CRIME'S FORECAST ......................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. WALLY'S SUBSTITUTE...............................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. THE DOUBLE SURPRISE ............................................................................................8

CHAPTER IV. CARDONA SOLVES A CRIME .................................................................................12

CHAPTER V. DUKE COLLECTS.......................................................................................................15

CHAPTER VI. THE SHADOW STRIKES ...........................................................................................19

CHAPTER VII. THE LAST PAYOFF...............................................................................................22

CHAPTER VIII. CRIME'S INTERLUDE............................................................................................26

CHAPTER IX. CRIME'S PROFITEER................................................................................................30

CHAPTER X. CRIME SPREADS THE DRAGNET...........................................................................33

CHAPTER XI. TO THE SANCTUM...................................................................................................37

CHAPTER XII. TRAP OF DEATH ......................................................................................................40

CHAPTER XIII. BELOW AND ABOVE .............................................................................................44

CHAPTER XIV. BRADTHAW MAKES A DEAL ..............................................................................48

CHAPTER XV. THE SHADOW'S MOVES........................................................................................52

CHAPTER XVI. CRIME TAKES A LOSS ..........................................................................................56

CHAPTER XVII. CRIME'S ULTIMATUM .........................................................................................60

CHAPTER XVIII. FRANCINE EXPLAINS........................................................................................64

CHAPTER XIX. MESSAGE OF DOOM.............................................................................................68

CHAPTER XX. CHANGED DEATH..................................................................................................72

CHAPTER XXI. CROOKS CLAIM WEALTH...................................................................................75

CHAPTER XXII. THE LAW LEARNS...............................................................................................79

WALLY DRILLICK stood before the big mirror in the living room of his swank apartment. He was adjusting

his black bow tie with the utmost care. Wally was most particular about his appearance when he wore tuxedo

Wally was a crook who worked on a deluxe scale. A good dresser, a smooth talker, he could wangle his way

into any social circle. Wally was handsome; and conscious of it. That also helped his cause. All in all, Wally

Wally was thinking of that very fact when he finished preening himself in the mirror. He placed a cigarette in

a monogrammed holder and seated himself in an easy chair to enjoy a smoke. It was not quite time to start on

Crime had gone ultramodern in Manhattan. Bigshots like Duke Unrig had discarded oldfashioned

methods. They staged their latest jobs with clocklike precision, accompanied by streamlined speed.

Toughmugged hoodlums had been shoved to the background. Instead, the bigshots used smooth workers

like Wally who spent their leisure hours in smart night clubs and highpriced taprooms, instead of

Of course, there were the "finger men" the lads who slipped the information to the bigshots. They worked

as doormen, waiters, or other attendants in clubs, hotels and apartments. Some of the finger men were

chauffeurs or butlers in private homes; good places from which to point out spots for crime.

Duke Unrig was one bigshot who handled the racket right. From dope that his finger men gave him, Duke

mapped his campaigns. His orders went to chaps like Wally; and the welloiled machinery moved.

Wally had found every job a cinch. Loot was plentiful; the hauls were large. Duke received the proceeds and

saw to it that Wally and the other gentlemen crooks received enough cash to live in lavish style.

Duke still had tough guys on his pay roll: "trigger men" who liked to use their gats. Those "torpedoes" were

necessary, in case of emergency. They were under strict orders, though, to use the soft pedal; to keep out of

So far, none of Wally's expeditions had produced the slightest difficulty. In Wally's conceited opinion, Duke's

In fact, Duke had been ready to dispense with his gunmen, until some other bigshots had encountered

trouble. Oddly, some smooth jobs had been slipping lately. Wise criminals had been running into unexpected

The newspaper on Wally's mahogany table told how the law had bagged a welldressed crook and four

wanted thugs who were disguised as truckmen. The five had been loading rare paintings into a moving van,

The millionaire's servants had actually been helping the thieves, thinking that the pictures were going to an

art exhibition. The police had arrived in time to interfere. Who had passed the tipoff, was still a mystery to

That was but one case of thwarted crime. Roughly, Wally estimated that the percentage of successful jobs had

been cut in half during the past month. His opinion again an egotistical one was that the field had

overcrowded, making less good workers available. Bigshots other than Duke Unrig were handicapped. They

THERE was a thumping at the apartment door. Wally discarded his cigarette and strolled over to answer the

knock. A pastyfaced delivery man extended a box of laundry. Wally paid him three dollars and forty cents.

As soon as the man had gone, the crook opened the package. Between two starched shirts, Wally found an

It contained a message from Duke; it referred to the "Melrue job" and mentioned contact at the Top Hat Club.

With the message was a table reservation at the night club, also a faked membership card to a fraternal order

that bore the name of James Ludas from Cincinnati. Wally had used credentials like these before.

Duke's note added two other details. After he burned the message, Wally took care of those points.

He went into a bedroom; opened a bureau drawer and produced a thick silk handkerchief that had two thin

slits, artfully cut near the center of its expensive fabric. Reaching behind the drawer, he brought a stubby

Going out through the living room, Wally stopped long enough to pick up the newspaper and turn to the

society page. He smiled suavely at the printed portrait of a lighthaired girl, whose eyes carried a vivacious

sparkle, apparent even in the coarsescreened newspaper photograph. Her features were of even formation,

with the possible exception of her chin, which showed determination. That pleased Wally.

"You're a goodlooker, kid," he said, in a lowpurred tone. "Too bad you won't be around when I call.

Maybe it's all for the better, though. I'll remember the address. Maybe I'll drop in some time, without this."

By "this," Wally meant the silk handkerchief that served him as a mask. He dangled it in front of the

He read the name beneath it: Francine Melrue. The caption stated that she was to be on the reception

What the society report did not mention was the fact that Francine Melrue had recently become heir to half of

a milliondollar estate left by her deceased uncle. The girl's brother, George, had received an equal amount.

In the apportionment, Francine had been given family gems valued at one hundred thousand dollars.

Those jewels, Wally happened to know, were somewhere in the apartment that Francine Melrue occupied.

Wally's job was to pick up the gems during the girl's absence. The task was entirely smoothed over, the final

Donning a light overcoat, Wally made sure that a pair of gray kid gloves were in the pocket. They were

important, for they eliminated finger prints. Standing in front of the mirror, Wally adjusted a natty derby hat

He paused long enough to transfer the revolver to an overcoat pocket. Since a gun had been mentioned in

THERE was only one inconvenience about the apartment house where Wally Drillick resided. It was rather

secluded; and taxis were not always on hand. Wally made it a practice to allow for a few minutes' delay in

Tonight, Wally was in luck. When he reached the sidewalk, he saw a shiny, streamlined cab parked in the

The driver opened the rear door as soon as Wally appeared. The crook saw an eager, pointed face peering

Wally named the Top Hat Club as he stepped aboard. The driver nodded to show that he knew the address.

The door slammed shut; the cab was in motion. Wally settled back to draw a long puff from his fancy

Quickly, Wally shifted. A passing street lamp gave his eyes a momentary view of a blackcloaked figure.

Wally caught the glow of burning eyes beneath the brim of a slouch hat. He sped his ungloved hand for his

overcoat pocket, plucked out the stubby revolver and swung the muzzle toward the being beside him.

The glimmer of the gun was seen by those burning eyes. A blackgloved hand sped forward with

triphammer speed. Before Wally could hook the trigger with his forefinger, his wrist was twisted in a

clamping grip. The crook doubled to the floor, writhing in the clutch of an expert jujutsu hold.

In three brief seconds, Wally guessed the identity of his powerful antagonist. He was in the grip of The

To The Shadow, all crooks were alike, whether they dwelt in the scummy badlands or posed as members of

society's upper crust. The Shadow had his own methods of handling evildoers. He demonstrated them in the

As the stubby revolver thudded the floor of the speeding taxi, The Shadow's free hand gained a grip on

Wally's flailing left arm. The crook performed a half somersault; came up to tug at a hand that held his throat.

Wrenching his neck free, Wally planked his head against the cab door; it tilted his chin upward at a desirable

Wally Drillick felt the jolt in two places: against his lower jaw and the top of his skull. It had a telescopic

effect, as if his head had suddenly compressed. The tuxedoed crook crumpled on the cab floor. That punch

The Shadow spoke an order to the cab driver. The taxi changed course; threaded among narrow streets.

The Shadow plucked objects from Wally's pockets and examined them in the glow. A soft, whispered laugh

Rolling Wally face downward, The Shadow peeled off the criminal's topcoat. He replaced all items, including

the revolver, in the overcoat pocket. Wally's derby was lying on the seat. The Shadow bundled it with the

The cab stopped in front of an empty sidestreet house. The door opened. The Shadow stepped to the curb

and gave a sibilant hiss. Two men arrived from the shelter of the house steps; at The Shadow's order, they

hauled Wally's senseless form from the cab and carried it through a basement door beneath house steps.

From the sidewalk, The Shadow spoke an order to the cab driver. The taxi wheeled away. Obscured in the

darkness, The Shadow moved in the opposite direction. He was gone when his two agents came from the

The Shadow had temporarily disposed of Wally Drillick. The smoothworking sharper was out of the

running tonight. That did not mean that Duke Unrig's plans would not go further. On the contrary, The

Shadow had arranged for them to continue; but not with Wally as the active worker.

Tonight's crime was to reach a point that The Shadow desired. That point would mark its finish. Like Wally

Drillick, Duke Unrig was to experience a jolt. One that the bigshot would remember.

HALF an hour later, the streamlined taxicab stopped at the glittering entrance of the Top Hat Club. The cab

had picked up a passenger on the way a keencut young man who made a better appearance than Wally.

When he stepped from the cab, this new passenger was wearing Wally's derby and topcoat.

The young man was Harry Vincent, The Shadow's most trusted agent. It was Harry's job to take over Wally's

route so that crooks would not know that tonight's crime was slated for failure.

At the cloakroom, Harry left the hat and topcoat. He was wearing a tuxedo of his own; and he had transferred

all Wally's belongings to its pockets, with the exception of the gray kid gloves. They remained in the topcoat

The Top Hat Club was not overlarge. Its tables were placed on steplike tiers, forming three sides of a hollow

square. The central space was for dancing; later, there would be a floor show. The entertainers alone used a

Lights were dim. It was difficult to recognize people as they walked between the tables. That suited Harry

Vincent. It was one reason why The Shadow had sent him here openly. No one would remember Harry

It was not a case of Harry passing for Wally Drillick. The Shadow had been watching Wally for some time,

and knew how the smooth man of the underworld worked. Duke Unrig never arranged contacts at the places

where Wally usually went. Information always awaited Wally at some night spot where he was unknown. If

Proof that Wally was unknown at the Top Hat Club was apparent from the card that bore the name of James

So was the card that held the table reservation. Harry found the table a small one set for two persons. It was

just past a large pillar, two steps up from the dance floor. Harry showed the reservation to a waiter and took

There was a lighted lamp on the table; it was shaded. Harry had no difficulty shifting to a position where his

Harry nodded. He was watching the dance floor while he fitted a cigarette into Wally's fancy holder. Since

It suited the head waiter. Apparently, he expected stalling tactics from the man at the table. The fellow put

The tone signified something more. Reaching into his inside pocket, Harry produced two cards: the table

As the head waiter drew the upper card away, he saw the lower one. He gave an understanding whisper.

The head waiter spread a menu on the table. His lips were close to Harry's ear. In an undertone, the man

THE head waiter was gone. Harry glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes after eight. He watched the

Harry picked up the hat and coat at the cloakroom. As he reached the street, he felt for the kid gloves. His

fingers crinkled a slip of paper, evidently slipped in the pocket in the cloakroom.

From a cigar store, Harry made a telephone call. As soon as he had dialed the required number, an even voice

Burbank was The Shadow's contact man, who relayed information between active agents and their

mysterious chief. Harry gave the facts to Burbank; quietly, the contact man told him to stand by.

Harry was to go to the Adair Apartments, where Francine Melrue lived. He was to proceed as Duke Unrig

expected Wally to perform; but he was to force the pinch that Duke mentioned but did not want. To produce

THE Adair Apartments fronted on a side street just off Lexington Avenue. Harry arrived at the entrance a few

There was a service entrance just past the far wall of the apartment house; and there were some good lurking

spots farther down the street. Those could serve the outside crew; but they were too far away for any one of

What Harry did not notice was a house directly opposite the apartment building. Its first floor was a small

There were eyes watching from a blackened window on the second floor. A wellconcealed observer spotted

When Harry entered the foyer of the apartment house, he saw an office near the elevator. A clerk was busy at

the switchboard, answering a deluge of calls that were crowding in all at one time. The elevator operator, a

Harry was entering the elevator. Eddie came back to run the car. Muttering his opinion of Fred, Eddie

scarcely noticed the tuxedoed passenger who was aboard. He started the car upward.

Harry said "Sixth" and Eddie stopped at that floor. The operator was still mumbling when Harry left the

FRANCINE MELRUE'S apartment was No. 6H. Harry found the door unlocked. He entered and noted

Window shades were drawn; the door to the bedroom was closed. Unquestionably, someone who worked in

the apartment house had seen to these details. That person would have a perfect alibi later.

Such was the way with the finger men employed by Duke Unrig. They paved the way for workers like Wally

Drillick, but were careful to do nothing more. That completely misled the police when they studied scenes of

So far, Harry had followed Duke's instructions as capably as Wally could have. His next step was to look for

Apparently, that hatbox had been put there accidentally. Harry knew otherwise. He looked directly above it

All the while, Harry had been wearing the gray kid gloves. The time had come for another precaution that

Wally had regarded as unnecessary, but upon which Duke had insisted. It was one that was to serve Harry

Harry produced Wally's silk mask and carefully arranged it to cover his face. He fixed it so that he could see

Harry's gloved hands gripped the picture frame. It was tight against the wall, but a few shifts enabled Harry to

find how it was fastened. The painting came away. Harry laid it on the hatbox. His lips smiled beneath the

Harry saw the door of a small wall safe, protected by a most effective device: a letter lock. The middle of the

door showed five small letters, like the figures on a speedometer. At present, those letters formed the medley:

With gloved fingers, Harry turned each cylinder, bringing new letters of the alphabet into view. He reached

the ones he wanted and adjusted them so that they formed an exact line, spelling he word:

When Harry gripped the knob beside the letter lock, the door of the wall safe came open. Harry found a stack

of jewel cases. Opening them in quick progression, he took out the gems, placing each emptied case with the

The jewels formed a double handful; but Harry managed them with one hand by holding it against his coat.

Harry was a fair judge of gems; he recognized that this collection was certainly worth the one hundred

One oldfashioned finger ring was mounted with a huge emerald one of the finest green stones that Harry

had ever seen. There was a rubystudded brooch, a diamond necklace, pendants that contained excellent

sapphires. Other rings and bracelets glistened with diamonds of smaller size; but if those gems were flawless,

The last item in the safe was a purse of woven platinum, that crinkled when Harry brought it out. It made a

fairsized bag, large enough to hold the gems, if they were lightly packed. The purse would he useful later.

Tensely, the minutes passed. If Harry had been Wally, he could have put away the loot and made a cool

departure either by the elevator or the window, according to which he preferred. For the present, Harry

He was following Duke's orders no longer. From this point on, The Shadow's instructions were in operation.

Soon, The Shadow's plans were to produce a startling development that would bring crooks into the open.

WHILE Harry Vincent waited in Apartment 6H, Fred, the tardy elevator man, arrived in the downstairs foyer.

Fred was a pokerfaced fellow. He formed a distinct contrast to Eddie. In fact, it was Fred's superior ability

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Deedham," began Fred, stopping at the office. "It won't happen again, sir "

"Yeah?" It was Eddie who interrupted, as he came from the elevator. "Well, it happens that you picked the

"That's serious," laughed Fred, eyeing the other operator. "I guess you're only due for about one date in a

Deedham remarked that he would have to dock Fred as a matter of policy. Fred looked disgruntled; then

"You ought to dock this bird all the time," said Fred. "There's a lot of rules he doesn't follow. Like taking

Eddie looked sheepish. Fred had picked his weak point. The longfaced operator started to say something,

"I get it," grinned Fred. "I'll bet you slipped on that very order this evening!"

"I guess I did," admitted Eddie. He turned to the clerk. "There was a fellow went up about ten minutes ago,

"No, sir. He got off at the sixth and hasn't come down. I didn't notice him close, except that he looked all

Deedham made a note on a slip of paper. He told Eddie to go off duty; then spoke to Fred:

Fred entered the elevator. His back turned to Deedham, the operator showed a wise look. Everything was

working right. Fred was the finger man who served Duke Unrig. He had come here late for a definite

purpose. Fred had been sure that his lateness would make Eddie jittery enough to forget the rule about

As matters stood, Eddie would be blamed for the robbery when it was discovered. He would be fired for

negligence. Fred would remain on the job, in high standing, completely supported by Deedham's testimony.

Fred had found out that Eddie did not remember what the visitor looked like. That made everything right for

Fred's job was to flag the crook when he rang from the sixth floor and tell Wally to slide out by the window.

He could report to Deedham that there had been no one waiting for the elevator. That would start a lot of

PASSING minutes made Fred decide that Wally had already gone through the window. That made it all the

better. Standing in the open elevator, Fred was just about ready to approach Deedham and start talking about

Fred's poker face changed slightly. He recognized Francine Melrue. The girl had come from the charity ball

in haste, for her evening wrap was almost slipping from her shoulders. Francine stopped at the office with the

"I have not seen Mr. Melrue," expressed the clerk, in a surprised tone. "I I thought, Miss Melrue, that "

"I know. George and I have not been on the best of terms. That does not matter. I received a message that

Fred had a shrewd idea. Wally had probably cleared out and called Duke. This could be a stunt to shift the

"Of course!" exclaimed Deedham. Then, to Francine: "Possibly your brother is upstairs in the apartment."

Fred took Francine up to the sixth floor. Obligingly, he kept the elevator there. Fred expected the girl to come

As soon as Francine opened the apartment door, she saw the lighted living room. She looked about as she

The girl stopped short, as she viewed the masked face beneath the derby hat. She saw Harry's gloved left

Instead of faltering, Francine showed spunk. She sprang across the room to snatch at the jewels and the mask.

Harry, faking that he was surprised by the girl's entry, was up against a real predicament. He solved it by

pushing Francine away with a quick armthrust. Harry started for the door of the bedroom.

On the way, he whipped off the derby hat and poured the jewels into it. Holding the bowler like a football,

nestled in his left arm, Harry reached to his pocket with his right. He brought out Wally's revolver, to bluff a

Harry's shove had sent the girl against a corner table. When Harry turned, Francine had opened a drawer. The

girl was pointing a .32 in Harry's direction. She had him covered before he gained a chance to aim Wally's

There was bravery in the girl's voice. Harry saw the determined chin that Wally had admired. He knew that

"Now the jewels." Francine spoke louder, more briskly. "Put them on that chair!"

She nudged her revolver toward the center of the room to indicate the chair. A moment later, she again had

Harry covered. Slowly, Harry started to obey the girl's order. As he did, he heard sneaky steps in the hallway.

Harry guessed right when he decided that some crook was making an approach. It was Fred. The finger man

had heard Francine's voice and knew what was up. This was something not in The Shadow's plans.

Harry was supposed to be away, with the jewels, before any others came. It was a tight spot for Harry; in the

Francine had brought her gun from deep in a lower table drawer. There was a chance that the girl had kept it

there unloaded. There was also a possibility that whoever had inspected this room some time ago had found

the gun. A smart finger man might have unloaded the weapon, just in case something like this might happen.

Chances were even, as Harry saw them. He was ready for the risk. He gave a shrug as he put the derby on the

chair. His motion was slow, reluctant; it suddenly changed to speed. Twisting from the chair, Harry made a

He had the girl's wrist before she could press the trigger. The gun went upward, its muzzle pointed wide.

Harry was wrong in his guess; but that no longer mattered. The shot had missed. Harry was plucking the

Francine still showed bustle. She grabbed for the lost gun. She clawed for Harry's mask. Her evening wrap

fell as she grappled; with arms free, Francine showed determined opposition until Harry caught one of her

wrists in a backhand grasp. He spun the girl around; held her helpless beside him.

Panting, Francine glared upward at the silk mask, trying to guess the features that it covered.

Past the girl, Harry saw Fred at the door. The finger man had drawn a revolver. Harry shook his head, to

indicate that the gun would not be needed. Thinking the masked man to be Wally, Fred put away the weapon.

Though Harry regretted it, there was only one way to handle Francine and keep her safe from actual crooks.

That was to put her far enough away for Harry to manage escape by the window. Harry relaxed his grip.

As Francine twisted away, hoping to free her arm, Harry propelled her across the living room. Spinning as

Grabbing up the jewelloaded derby, Harry wrenched open the door to the bedroom and dashed through,

pocketing Francine's revolver as he went. Onehanded, he pulled up the window sash and swung over the

sill. The adjoining roof came flush with the wall of the apartment house, one floor below. Hanging with one

FRANCINE had found her feet. She started for the bedroom; on the way, she saw Wally's gun, where Harry

had dropped it. Francine grabbed the revolver and aimed for the dim outline of the opened bedroom window.

Fred, at the outer door of the apartment, thought that Francine had actually spotted the masked man who had

gone through the bedroom. Fred yanked his gun; aimed quickly for Francine, to drop her before she could

From the corridor behind Fred's back came solid darkness that swallowed the crook. The Shadow had trusted

His viselike fingers clamped Fred's gun. His other arm encircled the fellow's neck with the power of a

python's coil. Fred's chin went up. His eyes bulged; his lips failed in a gargly cry. When The Shadow gave

Francine furnished staccato accompaniment with shots from Wally's revolver. Her fire was unless, for Harry

had long since left the window. Francine turned about to see The Shadow finish Fred. As the girl stared

The gesture told Francine that The Shadow was a friend; that he had saved her from a treacherous foe. Before

she could express her thanks to the blackcloaked rescuer, The Shadow pointed to the telephone. His burning

eyes carried a command that Francine understood. She made a quick call to the downstairs office, telling

Francine thought she understood. The Shadow intended to leave the finish to the law. Francine was right; but

Crime's thrust was not over. Francine Melrue was to witness more of The Shadow's prowess.

THE sound of Francine's shots had carried outside. They were heard by lurkers beside the hotel. That

produced a result that Duke Unrig had always wanted to avoid action from the coverup crew that the

Half a dozen rowdies made a prompt appearance in the downstairs foyer headed by a rangy, hardeyed

fellow whose flattish nose and long jaw made him conspicuous. Any headquarters detective would have

The leader of the thuggish invaders was "Nogger" Tellif, long wanted by the law. Nogger had been Duke's

lieutenant for the past three months, but this was the first time he had come out in the open.

Deedham heard the clatter of the invaders and peered from the little office to see Nogger at the head of the

mob. The intruders had drawn their guns; that was enough for the clerk. He made a dive through an inner

Nogger stopped at the counter; he delivered an ugly scowl when he saw the plugged switchboard.

"That mug's tipped the coppers," growled Nogger. "We gotta work fast. C'mon! We're going after the moll!"

Thugs pried open the door of a second elevator. Leaving a pair as lookouts below, Nogger took three others

with him to the sixth floor. First out of the elevator, the rangy leader saw the car that Fred had vacated. With

When he reached the opened door, Nogger saw Francine standing near the telephone. The girl was holding

Wally's revolver pointed toward Fred. She was determined to keep the finger man a prisoner until the law

arrived. So far Francine had met no difficulty; for Fred was still lying senseless.

Before the girl could aim in his direction, Nogger had her covered. With an ugly grin, the big thug stepped

into the apartment. Francine bit her lips as she let the gun fall. She raised her hands, but did not quail.

"A SMART jane, ain't you?" gritted Nogger approaching close. "Maybe you're too smart. Anyway, we think

Still grinning, he nudged over his shoulder toward the three "gorillas" who had followed him. They had

"We're going to snatch you outta here," informed Nogger, as he edged closer to the girl. "The less you

He thrust a big paw forward to clutch Francine's shoulder. Again, the girl showed the fight that she had

displayed before. Her hand swung with a resounding thwack against Nogger's leering mouth. As the

Viciously, Nogger grabbed Francine with his free hand. Francine twisted away; a strap broke from her

evening gown as Nogger clutched it. An instant later, Francine was half sprawled on the floor. As nervy as

Nogger started to follow; then stopped with a snarl. The best place to settle this fighting female was right

An instant later, the wouldbe murderer had forgotten Francine. A strident challenge made him look

elsewhere. That challenge was a mocking laugh that came from the doorway of the darkened bedroom.

Nogger dropped back, aiming as he did. He knew the author of that taunt: The Shadow! He caught a quick

glimpse of a cloaked figure, aiming a huge automatic. Nogger tried to beat The Shadow to the shot; and

The Shadow's .45 tongued an arrowpoint of flame. The bullet cracked Nogger's gun wrist. He dropped his

The Shadow had called that shot with precision. Not only did he disable Nogger; he sent the big leader

straight into the path of the three gorillas who were starting to take aim. Their chance to fire was delayed; but

Wheeling out into the living room, he jabbed shots from different angles. One hoodlum collapsed. A second

The fleeing man reached Fred's elevator and boarded it. He slammed the door and made a quick downward

trip. The staggering man loped after him; tumbled to the floor of the second elevator. He managed to half

close the door and pull the control lever. As the elevator went downward, the thug sagged to its floor.

Nogger jerked out into the corridor a moment later and took it on the run. Halfway to the elevator, he saw a

revolver and grabbed it up with his good hand. Snarling as he backed away, Nogger thought he was ready for

He came to the elevator doors that were partly open, and waited. Nogger could aim equally well with either

hand. He spat a vicious welcome as The Shadow swung suddenly from the door of the apartment.

This time, Nogger thought he had the bulge. He felt sure enough of himself to take cover. Nogger made a

quick backward step through the doors of the elevator shaft. An instant later, he was off on a sixstory

tumble. During that death plunge, Nogger heard the trailing laugh of The Shadow.

MOVING back through the apartment, The Shadow saw Francine, again with gun in hand. He went through

to the bedroom; as he reached the window, he heard the clatter of elevator doors. The police had arrived to

The Shadow waited long enough to make sure; then dropped from the window, just as officers arrived to find

Across the roof; through the trapdoor; down the stairway of the nextdoor building. At the bottom, The

Shadow found Harry Vincent. His agent passed over the platinum purse, stuffed with Francine's jewels. The

Shadow whispered an order. Harry added the cards that had come from Wally's pocket.

There was an open door at the rear of the building. The Shadow peered out into darkness and saw that the

It chanced that eyes were watching from across the street. They belonged to the same observer who had seen

Harry enter the Adair Apartments. Those eyes were keen enough to spy Harry again, even though they failed

The watcher waited, however, until Harry had covered nearly half a block. The observer came out from

He made a thin, stoopshouldered figure, that trailer. He moved with long strides and kept close to the house

fronts. He was lucky, though, because he had lingered. If he had started too soon, he would have been spotted

As it chanced, the stooped man began his trail just after The Shadow had rounded the nearest corner.

Although police cars were driving up to the Adair Apartments, The Shadow was heading back to the

entrance. His amazing stealth enabled him to keep hidden from arriving police. Bluecoats were too thick,

Choosing a brief opportunity, The Shadow crossed the narrow street toward a line of parked cars in front of

A taxi wheeled in from the avenue. The Shadow recognized its occupant. The man was Joe Cardona, ace

police inspector of the New York force. As usual, Cardona was early on the scene. His arrival brought a

whispered laugh from The Shadow. Joe's cab offered The Shadow a convenient method of departure from

Just as Cardona stepped to the curb and closed his door, The Shadow reached the taxi from the other side. He

handled the outside door in silent fashion. He was in the cab, lost in its darkness, while Cardona was still

From the opened window on the curb side, The Shadow could reach out and touch the stocky figure of

That gave The Shadow a prompt inspiration. For a moment, his cloaked arm stretched from the window.

Cardona turned to enter the apartment house; the cab pulled away. The Shadow settled deep in the back seat,

INSIDE the apartment house, Cardona found police in charge of captured crooks. He showed a pleased look

on his swarthy face when he learned that the notorious Nogger Tellif had come to a timely death atop a

groundfloor elevator. Joe was also pleased to learn that more facts awaited him on the sixth floor.

There, Cardona entered Francine's apartment and heard the girl's whole story. Fred, conscious but

disgruntled, was clamped in a chair between two officers. When Francine accused him, the elevator operator

"Sure, I was the finger man," growled Fred. "You got the goods on me! Only, I don't know who snatched the

sparklers. I wasn't told. All I saw was what this Melrue dame saw a guy wearing a mask. I don't know who

the bigshot was, either. He always reached me through another guy, over the telephone."

Fred spoke the truth regarding Wally. He did not know just who had been deputed for tonight's job. He lied,

"We'll find out all we want to know," he promised. Then, to Francine, he said: "What we want right now,

Miss Melrue, is a description of the stolen jewels. Maybe I can get them back for you in a hurry."

Joe Cardona never fulfilled a promise more rapidly than he did that one. As Francine started to describe the

gems, Cardona shoved his hand into his big overcoat pocket, to find a small note book that he carried there.

Cardona's fingers clicked the clasp; the bag popped open. It almost fell from Joe's loosened hand. As the bag

tilted, a flood of jewels went clattering to the table top, while Cardona gaped in complete amazement.

It never occurred to Joe Cardona that the bag had been neatly dropped into his pocket from the window of the

very cab that had brought him here. Like other gifts from The Shadow, this one had come mysteriously,

In Cardona's opinion, the real solution of a robbery came with the restoration of the stolen goods. That was

THE next day found Joe Cardona still pondering over the mysterious return of the Melrue jewels. Joe had

covered his own surprise by simply stating that he "happened across" the gems and brought them back to

The result had been some excellent newspaper writeups, praising Cardona's cleverness. Around

headquarters, everyone expected Joe to have a swelled head; but the ace remained modest and noncommittal.

If Cardona's success entitled him to a swelled head, Duke Unrig's failure should have given that bigshot a

headache. Oddly, it didn't. Seated in a garish apartment, Duke Unrig was in the best of humor as he enjoyed a

Duke was a husky individual with the build of an ox. His heavy, bushybrowed face was one that could

glower on the slightest provocation. That made it all the more surprising when Duke chuckled over the

A tough looking bodyguard announced two visitors: Wally Drillick and Cliff Marsland. Duke said to show

The smooth crook was haggard and unshaven, the clothes that he wore were cheap and baggy. Wally

Cliff Marsland was a wellbuilt fellow, with chiseled features and a squareset jaw. His eyes had a coldness

that went well with his pokerfaced expression. Duke surveyed Cliff with approval; then introduced the

"This is Wally Drillick," Duke told Cliff. "The guy the bulls are after, for trying to snatch the rocks that

"This is Cliff Marsland. I'm getting him to take over Nogger's job. I'll need a good guy on that trick."

Wally and Cliff shook hands. Wally had heard of Cliff; but had never met him before. Cliff, however, had

seen Wally as recently as last night. Cliff was one of the two men who had stowed Wally in the basement of

the empty house. Since Wally had been unconscious at the time, it was not surprising that he did not

To the underworld, Cliff Marsland was a reputed killer; as tough and as dangerous a fighter as any bigshot

would want for a lieutenant. Secretly, Cliff was an agent of The Shadow. He had been waiting for a long time

to gain the opportunity of joining up with Duke Unrig. Nogger's death had provided the opening.

"WHAT soured the job?" queried Duke, addressing Wally. "I mean, before The Shadow breezed into the

Wally gave the details of his capture. He remembered The Shadow's tactics in the cab. Later, Wally had

awakened to find himself bound and gagged in an empty basement. It had taken him until dawn to get out of

"I couldn't go around in a tux," completed Wally, "and I was too jittery to head back to the apartment. So I

cracked into a tailoring shop and ditched the glad rags. I took this suit instead."

"You must have been jittery," snorted Duke, "or you'd have picked a better fit! Well, Wally, the racket's

finished, now that The Shadow is wise to it. Here" Duke drew a sheaf of bank notes from his pocket "take

There was fully a thousand dollars in the wad. Wally muttered grateful thanks for Duke's generosity. The

bigshot thumbed toward the door. His laughter had ended; his face was showing a glower, that indicated he

"Just another guy that went yellow in the pinch," the bigshot said to Cliff. "It don't matter, though. I'm

through with the fancy stuff. The Shadow's queered it! What Wally told me was worth the grand I paid him."

Duke drew a sheet of paper from a table drawer and wrote out details with a fountain pen. He folded the

paper and put it in an envelope; gave it to the bodyguard. He said something that puzzled Cliff.

"That's the report on Wally," stated Duke. "There'll be a guy around to pick it up. It covers everything. We

know why the job was stalled. It wasn't Wally who slid into the dame's apartment. It was some stooge that

Why Duke had sent a report somewhere was something that Cliff could not understand. He knew that Duke

was an independent bigshot who ran his own game and took orders from no one. Cliff hoped that Duke

"A lot of big fellows have tried that highclass stuff," declared Duke, "and they've been running into trouble

from The Shadow. Once that game gets cracked, it's through. Only I'm not washed up, like those other

"I've been waiting for something like this to happen; and all the while, I've been set to play something

different when the time came. I'm going to stage some oldstyle jobs; and I'm counting on you, Cliff. What I

needed was a guy as brainy as Wally and as hardboiled as Nogger. You're the guy!"

DUKE produced a sheet of paper and began to draw a rough chart in pencil. The diagram showed streets and

"This is the uptown branch of the Gotham Trust Company," explained the bigshot. "It stays open late on

Friday nights. Takes in a lot of dough in deposits. Down here" Duke ran his pencil to the vicinity of

Twentythird Street "is the main bank. At ten o'clock every Friday night, an armored truck leaves the

"That truck brings the dough. The finger men have been looking into it. They found out that two chain stores

close their books on Friday afternoons and shove their cash into that branch bank. There's been an average of

better than two hundred and fifty grand going downtown in that truck, every Friday!"

"I get it," said Cliff. "You'll case this joint up here and tip me off when the trip starts. Down here" Cliff

"That's the way I like to hear a fellow talk," chuckled Duke. "You're ready to take the tough part of the job!

Good stuff, Cliff! Only, I'm handling the job myself. Down here at Twentythird Street. I'll have five men

with me. Your job is to cover up with another crew, and see that we make a getaway."

"We won't even case it. That might make somebody suspicious. If the trip starts all sweet and pretty, the

mugs in the truck won't be expecting trouble. There's a couple of watchmen at the downtown bank. As soon

as they lug the first box from the truck, my outfit will step into the picture. With the truck door opened, it will

he a cinch! There'll be a big chase starting right after that. Your outfit will be placed to stop it."

Cliff's nod showed approval of the details along with his complete understanding. Duke crumpled the

diagram and threw it in the wastebasket. He glanced at Cliff's poker face and thought that it registered keen

Cliff was thinking along that very line. Long before evening, this news would reach The Shadow. Cliff had a

hunch that his blackcloaked chief would find some way to completely nullify Duke's quartermillion job.

AS Cliff leaned back, Duke's bodyguard entered. The fellow was bringing a compact squareshaped bundle.

He told Duke that the caller had come for the envelope and had left the package in its place.

"They didn't even wait for the report," expressed Duke. "I call that service! I guess the newspapers told them

Cliff sat puzzled while Duke ripped open the package. His perplexity was doubled when he saw the contents.

The bundle contained crisp currency of high denominations. Duke thumbed the bills rapidly; the count

"One hundred grand," he announced. He eyed Cliff steadily and was impressed by his new lieutenant's

"Neat!" decided Cliff. "It looks like one of your jobs went over the way you wanted it."

"It didn't though," returned Duke. "This mazuma is from the job that flopped last night. Those sparklers that

Wally didn't snatch were worth a hundred grand weren't they? All right. Here's the dough. One hundred

Duke put the money away. He walked to the door and Cliff followed. Duke reminded Cliff to be on hand by

"Got you guessing, haven't I, Cliff? I handed you the straight dope though. That dough came from the Melrue

job. The dame still has the sparklers; I've got the mazuma. Figure that one, Cliff."

"I'll give you the lowdown later. After tonight's job. You're a guy that knows plenty Cliff; but you'll learn a

Once away from Duke's quarters, Cliff put in a call to Burbank. He gave the contact man full details of

Duke's scheme to hold up the bank truck. Cliff added a report concerning the mysterious money that Duke

As Duke had said, Cliff knew plenty. The Shadow would soon know the same. The man who would learn

Yet the bundle of cash still puzzled Cliff. It was something unique in crime. A payoff for a job that had

One person alone could solve that riddle. The Shadow! Cliff was confident that The Shadow would work on

Cliff was half right; half wrong. Solving the riddle of that payoff would become The Shadow's quest; but it

In handling Duke Unrig, The Shadow would be merely clearing the way to the strangest campaign of his

entire career. That quest was to confront The Shadow with the sternest opposition that he had ever

ALL looked quiet outside the Gotham Trust Company at tenfifteen that night. Two uniformed watchmen

were waiting just within the side door. They saw nothing amiss on the street outside.

Word had arrived that the armored truck had started from the uptown branch. It would be due sometime

before half past ten. The call from the uptown branch was a usual Friday night procedure.

Just down the street from the bank's side door was a parked limousine. It was an old car but large and of

expensive make. It looked like the sort that belonged to some wealthy owner who preferred it to a less

Since the limousine had parked at the same spot on previous nights, it aroused no suspicions from the bank

Actually, that limousine was one that Duke Unrig had bought cheaply, a month ago. Its previous trips to this

vicinity had served as a blind. Tonight, the big car contained four huddled lurking men: Duke Unrig and three

Two more of Duke's star trigger men were crouched in a taxi parked back near the corner.

One block down the street, Cliff Marsland had the reserve crew. They were out of sight in vantage points.

Across the street, midway between the bank and the reserve crew, was a little restaurant that had private

dining booths upstairs. One booth fronted on the street; its window was curtained. Those drapes were

From that spot, eyes were peering the same eyes that had watched Harry Vincent enter the Adair

Apartments. Those eyes belonged to the observer who had later trailed Harry, after he had finished his role as

Nothing that happened on the outside street would escape the scrutiny of that hidden watcher.

The big hands on the large clock outside the Gotham Trust had crept to eighteen minutes after ten. A bulky

vehicle suddenly appeared from up the street. Rolling closer it proved to be an armored truck. The wheeled

fortress cut into the open space beside the bank door, where signs prohibited other cars from parking.

The two watchmen stepped from the bank door, their hands on revolvers that swung in side holsters. They

looked up and down the street and gave a simultaneous nod. The door of the truck opened.

Inside were stacks of metal boxes. Hands started the first box outward. The watchmen took it between them.

Doors whammed open from the limousine and the taxi. Duke's picked crew drove up with leveled revolvers;

three came from the limousine, two from the taxi. Duke remained behind, beside the big car.

The watchmen heard the rush. They had no time to draw their revolvers. Caught flatfooted, they could only

It was too late for that. Each watchmen was covered by a different trigger man. The other three torpedoes had

their guns trained on the open door of the armored van. Inside were men with upraised arms.

DUKE UNRIG stalked up to take charge. He snapped a sharp order to the helpless watchmen.

"Drop that box you're holding!" Duke told them. "And yank out the others, one at a time! Keep remembering

The uniformed men released the container that they had. It thudded to the sidewalk. At the same instant, a

man inside the truck gave a kneeshove to the top box of the stack that stood there. The results were

The first box cracked open the instant that it struck the cement. From its interior came a puff of enveloping

gas that shrouded the watchmen and the pair of thugs that covered them. Choking, the four went to their

hands and knees, clawing their faces to offset the instantaneous effect of a powerful tear gas.

The box from the truck hit the curb just as the first container puffed. The second box furnished its supply of

Duke Unrig saw that trio do their clawing dive. The bigshot gave a roar as a third box was pitched in his

Jumping toward the bank wall, Duke escaped the devastating puff that came from the third box. He aimed his

revolver at the door of the truck. Before he could fire, a gun spoke from the very spot toward which Duke

Hard upon Duke's bellow came a strident laugh; its challenging mockery froze Duke's open lips. That truck

was not the one the crooks expected. It was another, that had purposely arrived early; and its commander was

The Shadow. The crew consisted of men who served as agents of the black clad crimefighter.

While Duke gawked from amid his writhing, crawling crew, the door of the armored truck slammed shut. The

wheeled fortress rolled onward to further action, straight for the corner where Cliff Marsland had the reserve

Those crooks did exactly what Cliff expected. They went berserk. Springing from their lurking spots, some

peppered the armored truck with revolver bullets; while others clattered the steel vehicle with streams of

slugs that drilled from submachine guns. The bullets bashed like putty when they hit the thick metal walls.

The only shots that took effect were those that blasted with intermittent precision from the loopholes of the

armored truck. The Shadow and his accompanying marksmen were picking off every gunner who showed

himself in the open. That included all except Cliff Marsland who remained under cover as arranged.

Fire from the street was finished when The Shadow's fortress wheeled a corner. Clipped crooks were

crawling along the gutters yelping curses. Their epithets were drowned by the shriek of sirens from the other

Up to the bank came the expected armored truck, accompanied by officers on motorcycles. The police had

received a lastminute tip to meet the truck on its way to the Gotham Trust and convoy it the rest of the trip.

LOOKING along the street Cliff saw Duke make a mad jump for the taxi that his henchmen had occupied.

He wheeled the cab on a wide arc to drive in the opposite direction. He whizzed between a pair of motorcycle

officers before they could halt him. The policemen fired a barrage of bullets; then took up the chase. Shots

Officers had corralled the five members of Dukes teargassed crew. The thugs were recovering from the

temporary effects of that choking vapor to find themselves completely out of luck.

The bank watchmen had also recuperated and were trying to explain matters. Police were coming along the

It was time for Cliff to clear out. He took a last quick look; saw something that halted him.

One thug had crawled back to a doorway. He was crouched above a machine gun pointing it along the

sidewalk. He was ready to let the cops have it. Cliff took prompt care of that matter.

It was twelve feet to the doorway where the thug had his back to Cliff. Pulling a revolver, Cliff reversed the

weapon as he sprang forward. He gave the thug a short, hard tap behind the right ear.

The thud from the gun handle took perfect effect. The crook caved, senseless; the machine gun clattered

Turning about, Cliff made a quick run for the corner close behind him. He jumped in one of the reserve

crew's sedans and drove away just as an officer reached the corner. There was a command to halt; shots

Cliff did not stop. He was out of range. A few minutes later, he was entirely clear of the zone that the police

Cliff had a definite destination. The captured members of his reserve crew would realize that their own folly

had brought them wounded into the hands of the law. When they guessed that Cliff was still at large, their

natural conclusion would be that he had been the only one to use his head. They would regard Cliff as a smart

Even the thug that Cliff had slugged would have nothing to blab. His opinion would be that some cop had

Hence to preserve his phony status, Cliff's game was to play the part. The natural move was to seek a

hideout and stay there. It was unlikely that any captured thugs would blab his name; nevertheless a few

CLIFF had the place. After he abandoned the touring car, he went there. He reached a darkened spot in back

The clatter of bowling pins sounding through the rear window, drowned the groaning of metal that came

when Cliff drew down the hinged extension of a fire escape. This was his route to an empty rear room on the

Despite his care, Cliff was heard. A whispered voice spoke from darkness at his elbow when Cliff was on the

It was The Shadow. In undertone, Cliff gave the details of all that had followed after The Shadow's departure.

There was a pause, while a huge clatter told of some bowler's tenstrike. In the ensuing silence The Shadow

"You told Duke the location of this hideout. If he escaped he will send word to you. Use any chance for that

Silently, The Shadow was gone. Cliff sneaked up the fire escape. As he reached the hideout he recalled one

slight detail that he had forgotten to state to The Shadow. That was the fact that Cliff had moved from cover

The detail was more important than Cliff supposed. Back at the Gotham Trust, the street had cleared when

bony fingers closed the curtains of the upstairs window in the restaurant. Eyes that had watched from that

space had seen all that occurred, including Cliff's elimination of the last thug.

Soon afterward a lean, stooped figure left that little restaurant, moving at a rapid spidery gait. Lips, buried in

a wellwrapped muffler, were muttering pleased words. Last night this observer had placed Harry Vincent;

Insidiously, links were being welded in a chain that would later enwrap The Shadow.

IT was late the next evening when Cliff Marsland awoke from a jerky doze in the blackness of his hideout.

He rolled softly from his army cot, reached for a gun beneath the bundled sweater that he used as a pillow.

Cliff had heard the clang of footsteps on the fire escape just below his window. He waited for the sound to

recur. Instead, there was a rattle of a different sort. Something scaled through the window; hit the floor with a

After listening for half a minute, Cliff crept to the window. He heard a slight clatter down below. Someone

was completing his descent. The answer to the visit would be found in the object that had come through the

Using a flashlight along the floor, Cliff found an old tobacco can. It contained a badly scrawled message in

pencil. Cliff recognized the handwriting; it was Duke's, but badly off normal. Evidently the bigshot had

The painful message gave Cliff an address not far from Cliff's own hideout. Duke wanted to see his

Five minutes later Cliff was in the darkness of an outside alleyway. He gave a low psst; a hunchy little man

joined him. He was "Hawkeye," a clever spotter who knew every crevice of the underworld. Hawkeye was

Cliff told Hawkeye of Duke's message and added the opinion that Duke was probably in bad shape. No time

could be wasted. Hence Cliff suggested that Hawkeye call Burbank; and come to the vicinity of Duke's

Duke's hideout was over an abandoned pawnshop, whose proprietor had moved to a better location. Outside

the building, Cliff took a look around. He saw no one. That was where Cliff had made a mistake in not

Across the street, a lean, stooped figure chose a better hiding place the moment that Cliff entered the door

Hawkeye would have spotted the observer that Cliff had failed to notice. The new cover that the watcher had

UPSTAIRS, Cliff found a lighted crack beneath a door. He rapped softly; a groan answered him. Cliff opened

the door to find a gaslit room where Duke Unrig lay stretched on a rickety cot. The bigshot's body and neck

Glassy eyes recognized Cliff. Panted words gritted through Duke's clenched teeth.

"I'm through! They got me, Cliff! The Shadow he only clipped me! It was the bulls that did the

Cliff took a seat on a battered chair beside the cot. Duke drew pained breaths, he pressed a bandaged wrist

"I got to the apartment," he informed. "I brought along the dough I got for the sparklers. In that big bag

Cliff looked across the room. He saw a package resting beside the suitcase. It was larger than the one that

"I made a couple of telephone calls," explained Duke. "One, telling a certain guy where I'd be. The other to a

sawbones. He came here to fix me up. A good croaker; but he told me an hour ago that I'm through!"

Duke lay back, his eyes fixed to the ceiling. His lips scarcely moved as he spoke:

Cliff made quick work of the package. He thumbed rapidly through the thickstacked money that it

contained. The bills were of fivehundred and onethousanddollar denominations. They totaled a quarter

"Two hundred and fifty grand," said Cliff. "What was this for, Duke? The bank job?"

"Delivered today," he panted. "Like it should be. Put it in the bag with the other dough, Cliff. Take it with

Duke wanted to say more; but the effort was too much. Cliff opened the bag; inside, he saw the hundred

thousand that Duke had received at the apartment. Cliff added the new supply of currency. He came over to

"Give me the lowdown, Duke," he suggested, coolly. "Where'd all this mazuma come from?"

"It's a new racket, Cliff." Duke paused, tried to lick his lips. "A big racket! We've all been handling it.

Duke coughed as his lips tried to phrase a word. His eyes went wild. He gasped something between his

coughs; something about a croaker and a slug in the left lung. The cough changed to a violent choke.

Duke's final cough turned to a guttural sigh. The dying man sank from Cliff's grasp. Blood foamed Duke's

lips; his glazed eyes rolled upward. His shoulders sagged; their weight seemed doubled.

ANOTHER payoff. The last for Duke Unrig. Cliff Marsland turned to eye the big bag that held the money.

A mystery stood repeated, on a grander scale. First it had been one hundred thousand dollars for stolen jewels

This time, a quarter million more for a bank robbery that had been a washout! Duke and his crew had not

even seen the cash that they were after; yet Duke had received the very amount that he had estimated the job

That was the riddle; greater than it had been before. Duke had failed to give the wanted answer.

One thing was certain. Duke had intended Cliff to take away the cash; otherwise he would not have

summoned his new lieutenant here. Cliff could remove the moneyloaded bag without jeopardizing his

supposed position in the underworld. What Cliff did with the money would be his own business.

No one would ever ask. Therefore, as Cliff reasoned, no one would ever guess that he had sent crime's payoff

Toting the bag, Cliff left the death room. On the street, he gave a signal. It was low, but Hawkeye heard it.

"This," replied Cliff. "Loaded with dough! Whoever Duke sent to my place probably won't know about it. It

After a cautious pause, Cliff gave more details. Hawkeye informed that Burbank had instructed him to handle

anything that came from Duke's, since Cliff's place was back in his own hideout.

THOUGH Hawkeye was a capable spotter, he needed full concentration to notice everything that went on

about him. At present, Hawkeye was too concerned with the heavy bag to think of much else. He did look

behind him; but he did not pause long enough to spy the spidery trailer who followed him at considerable

Hawkeye reached the fringe of this shady district. Halfway along an alley, he stopped at a little door. It was

the side entrance to a dive that was patronized chiefly by outoftowners who thought they were seeing gang

A few gorillas went there for an occasional laugh; but most of the regular habitues were hopheads, who

served as stooges. They were supposed to represent the mobbies who made the joint their regular hangout.

The place was called the Rat's Hole, but the underworld had nicknamed it the "Simp Trimmer."

Reporters frequently visited the joint to get humaninterest stories. That was why Hawkeye had come

tonight. He left the bag in the corner of a back room and did a prompt slide out.

Not long afterward, a reporter named Clyde Burke an agent of The Shadow picked up the bag and carried

it with him. Clyde took a ride on the subway. He did not notice the lean man with muffled face, who stood on

After his subway trip, Clyde left the bag in The Shadow's taxi. Moe Shrevnitz, the waryfaced driver, made a

For once, another cab managed to keep on Moe's trail. The track was lost for a short time, when Moe picked

up The Shadow on a darkened side street; but that delay enabled the following cab to regain the trail a little

The Shadow finally left Moe's cab, carrying the bag with him. Moe rounded the block, and unluckily passed

the trailing cab that he had lost. A craning observer spotted Moe's license plate; saw that the cab was empty.

Paying his driver, the spidery passenger stepped from his cab and began a slow, methodical inspection on

foot. He threaded every street of that neighborhood before he finally went away.

MEANWHILE, a blue light had appeared in a blackwalled room. That shrouding black was cloth; the heavy

curtains made the room as somber as a forgotten tomb. The Shadow was in his sanctum, the secret

Longfingered hands appeared beneath the blue light. They held the stacks of bank notes that had been in

Duke's big bag. The Shadow piled the currency on a table. Beyond, a tiny spot glowed from the wall. It meant

The Shadow reached for earphones. Over the wire came Cliff's report, sent to Burbank by Hawkeye. It

included Duke's unfinished statement: "Crime in " Those words, puzzling to Cliff, carried significance to

Already, The Shadow had divined the reason for the payoffs. He knew why bigshots had persisted in

crime, even when their best schemes had been blocked. There could be only one reason. Behind crime lay an

He was a person who knew big business methods, and had applied them to crime. That big brain was using

legitimate enterprises to cover the boldest and most amazing racket in the history of modern crime.

To score against that hidden superfoe, The Shadow intended to strike first. All evidence indicated that The

Shadow would have time to investigate, pick out the enemy, then deliver a positive thrust that would tumble

The stacked wealth on The Shadow's table was the evidence. Unfortunately, it signified more than it told The

THE next morning, The Shadow had an appointment. It was with Ralph Weston, New York's police

commissioner. For that meeting, The Shadow used a guise that he commonly employed. He appeared as

Cranston was a globetrotter; between his travels, he lived in a New Jersey mansion. He spent most of his

evenings in Manhattan, at the exclusive Cobalt Club. It was an almost unheard of occurrence when Cranston

The commissioner had invited Cranston to attend a hearing that concerned the attempted Melrue jewel

robbery. Weston not only regarded Cranston as a friend; he appreciated the advice that Cranston sometimes

Cranston had a good memory for faces, and Weston thought that he might have seen some of the prisoners,

The Shadow had actually worked that invitation from the commissioner. He wanted to attend the hearing to

learn if any doubt had been raised regarding the identity of the masked man who had taken the jewels.

The prisoners included Fred, the elevator man; also the assistant head waiter from the Top Hat Club. There

were a few others whom the police thought were finger men. Also the captured thugs who had been under

Definite mention was made of Wally Drillick; although the prisoners claimed they did not know the fellow, it

Francine Melrue was at the hearing. The girl gave her testimony in a firm voice. With her was a nervous,

dissipatedlooking young man; her brother, George. The two scarcely spoke to each other. The reason for

their coldness was something that The Shadow had easily learned. George was squandering his half million

When the hearing ended, Francine started from the courtroom. Commissioner Weston stepped over and

nodded to Joe Cardona. The inspector stopped Francine, to ask if he might have the pleasure of introducing

the police commissioner. Francine smiled; she shook hands with Weston. In turn, the commissioner

FRANCINE was immediately impressed by the tall millionaire's appearance. Cranston's face was firm,

almost masklike; his features had a hawkish appearance. His thin lips showed only the faint semblance of a

smile; it was his eyes that captured Francine's attention. Francine remembered eyes that had burned with

dynamic power, from beneath a slouch hat. The eyes of The Shadow! all that Francine had seen of that

shrouded being's face. Cranston's eyes seemed milder; but there was something in their steady gaze that was

Commissioner Weston was commending the girl on her brave fight against the jewel robbers. Francine

scarcely heard what Weston said. When she turned away, she was almost in a daze, still thinking of The

George Melrue saw a chance to talk to his sister. He plucked Francine's arm and spoke in a whiny, pleading

"The old house that Uncle Seth died in?" she asked, mechanically. "But it doesn't belong to us. Uncle Seth

"I talked to our lawyer, Mr. Reddingham," explained George. "He's found out that Wilmot died a couple of

years ago, so the house reverts to us. And listen, Francine, Uncle Seth always said I had no business sense.

But I've pulled a deal that will make the old boy turn cart wheels in his mausoleum!"

"Yes; and what do you think I got for the old brownstone relic? Ninety thousand dollars!"

Francine gasped her amazement. She forgot entirely that Weston and Cranston were hearing the conversation.

"Why, George!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Reddingham told us that the house wasn't worth a dollar over forty

thousand! And the real estate men said that even that was too high an estimate."

"I know it," chuckled George. "That's where I was smart! It seems that a chap named Hurden called up

Reddingham and asked him about the house. Reddingham put it up to me; so I asked a big price, intending to

cut it in half and make Hurden think I was giving him a bargain. Instead, Hurden accepted the price!"

A KEEN sparkle showed in Cranston's eyes. The Shadow knew the old brownstone mansion by sight; he

recognized its value as less than forty thousand dollars. He had also heard the name of Hurden.

It had been used in some big stock transactions. Hurden was a professional proxy who bought goods for

persons who did not want their own names involved. He always made his transactions by telephone and

Somebody wanted the Melrue mansion badly. The heirs did not know it; they were both enthusiastic as they

Walking out with Weston, Cranston allowed a slight smile. Something lay behind that prospective deal; it

smacked of smooth crime, the sort that The Shadow had been curbing lately. It might even be a new

In fact, the sale of the Melrue mansion might be the very wedge that The Shadow wanted. By studying it

closely, The Shadow might reach through and find the crime that lay behind crime. The Shadow had gained

Concerned with this new fact, The Shadow did not consider another possibility that his presence at the

hearing might also have caused him damage. Nothing had occurred to indicate such; but it was actually the

At that moment, a stolidfaced court attendant was riding in a taxicab, mulling over a list that he had

prepared. It contained the names of everyone who had been at the hearing. The man sealed the list in an

A bell hop took the envelope up to the fifth floor and knocked on a door. There was a harsh voice from

within. The door opened to reveal a lean, stoopshouldered man, whose face was pale and cadaverous.

Sharp, tiny eyes glittered as they saw the envelope. Strampf plucked it from the bell boy's hand; thrust a

quarter dollar in its place. He closed the door and strode back through the room.

There was something spidery in Strampf's gait; a peculiar hunch of his stooped shoulders as he sat down at a

Strampf was the man who had twice watched crimes in progress; the observer who had spotted both Harry

Vincent and Cliff Marsland. It was Strampf who had trailed the bag of payoff money.

Strampf ripped open the envelope. His bony forefinger pointed from name to name. The man's dried lips

curled in disappointed fashion. He shook his head, rubbed his fingers through his thin hair. Carefully, he

The little eyes narrowed to tiny points. Strampf sprang from the table, began to search through stacks of old

magazines in the corner. They made an odd assortment, those magazines. They included a number of pictorial

Pawing the pages, Strampf found the picture that he wanted. It showed a party of biggame hunters, ready to

begin a trek across the African veldt. Their names were listed beneath the photograph. The third man from

Strampf stroked his chin with bony fingers as he noted the date of the magazine. It was six weeks old; but

that did not matter. The caption with the photograph declared that the party had left for a twomonth trip.

He had it! There were two persons who posed as Lamont Cranston. One, the actual Cranston, was scarcely

ever in New York. The other an impostor found advantage in his double's absence. It enabled him to

STRAMPF pounced back to the table. There, he gathered papers that bore various names. To them, he added

Strampf had figured that The Shadow would be present at the court hearing; but he would never have guessed

The Shadow's guise except for that chance photograph. Once learned, the whole case intrigued Strampf by

What could be better, from The Shadow's standpoint? It told Strampf something that he had guessed, but had

not been sure about that The Shadow had some way of keeping track of the law's moves, to time his own

The dual identity also explained how The Shadow gained such quick inside information regarding everything

His sheets complete, Strampf reached for a telephone. He called a number; a girl's voice replied in the

"Mr. Strampf calling," informed the cadaverous man. "I want to talk to Mr. Bradthaw."

"Leave word for him to expect me by half past two. With this message: Tell him that I have all the

As he hung up the receiver, Strampf leaned back in his chair. His bony fingers strummed the strewn papers

that cluttered the table edge. There was something ominous in the soft tattoo that Strampf's fingers pounded.

It signified trouble for The Shadow. Strampf had uncovered the cloaked sleuth's choicest secret. When that

news reached Bradthaw, there would be action. Strampf knew well Bradthaw's methods. They were the sort

Thanks to Strampf, a mastercrook would be able to find The Shadow, at whatever time the superplotter

Two o'clock. Marvin Bradthaw, president of the Solidarity Insurance Company, had returned to his office. He

was seated there, peering through the window toward the neighboring skyscrapers of lower Manhattan.

Marvin Bradthaw had the appearance of a man who typified huge commercial success. His face was rugged,

with the square jaw that marked a firm executive temperament. His steelgray eyes were almost the color of

his smoothparted hair. His lips had a slightly compressed appearance, indicating that they never spoke

Bradthaw's elbow was on the desk. His smoothshaven chin was resting in hand. Not only was he the picture

of success, facts marked him as a giant in the insurance world. The Solidarity had a high reputation with all

underwriters. It controlled companies that handled casualty, automobile and fire insurance.

Credit for the rise of the Solidarity Insurance Company belonged entirely to Marvin Bradthaw. His company

owned this fortystory building, the Solidarity Tower. The offices of the company occupied the ten top

stories; and Bradthaw's own office was on the fortieth. It was the highest spot in the building, except the

Bradthaw was a man with a huge income. He had every right to look pleased as he gazed from his

highsituated office window. Instead, the famed insurance magnate had a disgruntled air.

He was not at all satisfied with business conditions. Casualty, automobile and fire were showing their proper

That particular type of insurance was unknown to the world at large. Yet Bradthaw regarded it as more

important and more profitable than all other forms of insurance combined. He had planned it with the

Those figures were never to be made public. Bradthaw's secret enterprise was unheard of, startling to the last

A BUZZER sounded on Bradthaw's desk. The executive picked up a telephone from its cradle; learned that

Mr. Louis Caudrey had called to see him. Bradthaw announced that he would see Caudrey at once. After he

Caudrey was the actuary who had figured the premium payments necessary in insuring crime. Bradthaw had

not expected Caudrey, but he was glad that the man was here. He needed Caudrey's services.

Louis Caudrey entered. He was a droopy sort of man who looked older than his age. Hollowed checks spoiled

the rounded contour of his face; his eyes looked dull and tired, because of their heavy lids.

It was seldom that Caudrey discarded that manner; but he felt free to do so in Bradthaw's presence. Caudrey

"I'll tell you why I'm here, Bradthaw," said Caudrey, in a high choppy tone. "I've uncovered a big deal; and

"Crime?" queried Bradthaw, in a modulated basso. "A bit out of your line, Caudrey."

"You've guessed it." Caudrey pursed his lips into a smile. "Yes, I've gone in for crime, if you want to call it

Bradthaw said nothing. Caudrey decided that the insurance magnate would be interested in the details.

"I do a great deal of specialized work for attorneys," he stated. "My specialty is straightening out the financial

figures of estates, when deceased persons leave them badly mixed. Recently, I worked for a lawyer named

Reddingham. He gave me a boxful of unexamined papers that had belonged to Seth Melrue."

So far Bradthaw looked unimpressed. Caudrey's eyes twinkled at thought of the surprise that he was about to

"A million dollars was divided between George Melrue and his sister Francine. Seth Melrue was their uncle.

The old man left his house to a friend named Wilmot. It happens that Wilmot was already dead, so the house

"I began to find things when I went through the papers. Facts that even the lawyer, Reddingham, didn't know.

They were explained when I found a sealed envelope addressed to Wilmot. I opened it and found a message

Enthusiastically, Caudrey leaned across Bradthaw's bigtopped desk, to wag a finger as he declared:

"There's three million dollars sealed up in a wall of that mansion! Money that old Melrue wanted his friend

Wilmot to have! The old man was afraid to state it in his will, fearing that the nephew and niece would

INSTEAD of sharing Caudrey's enthusiasm, Bradthaw merely reached for a box of cigars. He proffered one

to his visitor and lighted another for himself. In his careful tone, Bradthaw announced:

Caudrey flattened back in his chair, too astounded to speak. At last, he exploded.

"Don't you understand?" he demanded. "I'm going to get the three million! I'm buying the house through a

proxy named Hurden. I'll have workers the right type open the wall for me. But there are many details

"It comes under the head of crime insurance," he insisted. "I can supply you with all proof necessary for you

to insure the case. It will come under Preferred Class, Triple A. A ten per cent premium, amounting to three

"In Preferred policies, particularly Triple A, you allow the policyholder to pay after the crime is completed. If

it misses as such cases rarely do you pay the face of the policy and deduct the premium. I shall request

"We are issuing no more Preferred policies," declared the insurance magnate. "The best that I can do,

Caudrey, is give you a policy in the Risk Group. The premium will be fifty per cent. Half of the three million

"I I can't understand that," sputtered Caudrey. "You can't mean it, Bradthaw! Why, I I know the insurance

"You did," affirmed Bradthaw. "But you overlooked the most important factor! I am not blaming you,

Caudrey. It was something that we ourselves should have foreseen. You did not figure The Shadow hazard."

"Precisely," informed Bradthaw. "Every form of insurance is faced by definite hazards that must be

recognized. In casualty, carelessness is a hazard. With automobile insurance, reckless or drunken drivers

constitute a serious problem. Improper building construction produces a fire hazard.

"Crime insurance is no exception to the usual run. We looked for trouble from the law, and calculated it

accurately. Crime insurance operated successfully for several months; then our losses began to swallow our

THE name was unfamiliar to Caudrey. He recognized by Bradthaw's tone that the insurance magnate was

"That is what we want to know," returned Bradthaw, grimly. "We have learned only that The Shadow is a

blackclad meddler who makes it his unwarranted business to interfere with crime. Who he is where he is

"Not The Shadow. The nastiest trait that he possesses is integrity. We have learned that much through

inquiry. Bah! The fellow must be insane! Otherwise, he would sell out. Every sane man has a price."

Caudrey agreed with Bradthaw on that point. But it did not help the problem. Seeing that Caudrey was

"Through the brokers that we chose," he explained, "we reached the cleverest crooks in the underworld. The

chaps who call themselves bigshots. They jumped at the offer of crime insurance. They provided us with

detailed plans of their schemes. We issued them policies and they paid the premiums.

"We took in half a million dollars the first month; and paid only one claim, a paltry twenty thousand dollars.

The second month showed a million dollars in premiums; with claims of one hundred and thirty thousand

"The third month our premiums brought us another million, but we were forced to pay out twice that sum for

crimes that failed. The Shadow hazard was the cause. The Shadow ruined our business not only by

Bradthaw plucked a newspaper from his desk; he pointed to a picture of Duke Unrig, that was accompanied

by an account of how the police had found the bigshot's body in a squalid hideout.

"Read this, Caudrey!" declared Bradthaw. "You mentioned the name of Melrue. I know the name. We paid

Unrig one hundred thousand dollars after he failed to acquire the Melrue girl's gems. You have read about the

frustrated holdup at the Gotham Trust Company. We paid Unrig a quarter million on that claim.

"Both of those crimes were spoiled by The Shadow. Every case that comes to us must be regarded as an

absolute risk until the hazard is eliminated. That is why I cannot give you a preferred policy, Caudrey, much

Bradthaw sat down. His manner signified that the interview was ended. He began to sort through papers that

lay upon the desk. One was the message that had come from Strampf. Bradthaw was reading it when Caudrey

Bradthaw's exclamation halted Caudrey. The actuary saw the insurance executive glance at his watch. It was

"I expect another visitor," remarked Bradthaw. "I should like you to be here, Caudrey. Perhaps, when we

have discussed matters, we shall be able to issue you a policy in the Preferred Class, Triple A!"

There was a confident smile on Bradthaw's compressed lips, as crime's profiteer sat back to await the arrival

STRAMPF was announced punctually at half past two. Caudrey showed a gleam of recognition when the

spidery man entered Bradthaw's office. Caudrey knew Strampf by sight and reputation. The fellow was a

Strampf was an insurance investigator. For years, he had tracked down false claims, exposing schemers who

tried to swindle big insurance companies. It was Strampf who had traced the five wives of Algernon Ringley,

all supposedly dead. Ringley had collected insurance in each case and had divided proceeds with the women.

At present, all were in prison for fraud; and Ringley had been tagged with a bigamy sentence, in addition.

Similarly, Arno Shawlee was safe behind bars. He had been the mainspring of an arson ring that collected

huge sums from fire insurance companies. Shawlee's arrest was also credited to Strampf.

There were other cases; dozen of them. Strampf had produced results in every field of insurance. Not only

was he a genius in his own right; he was smart enough to employ clever subordinates. He had them

everywhere, in every walk of life. Persons who produced the information that Strampf wanted, and gave it

Louis Caudrey had a high regard for Marvin Bradthaw's cunning. That regard was greatly increased when

In a sense, Strampf was a human machine, who did any task to which it was put. Strampf's one joy was the

accomplishment of such tasks. Such matters as ethics and human welfare did not interest the fellow.

Marvin Bradthaw had recognized that trait in Strampf. That was why he had acquired the remarkable

investigator. Bradthaw had put Strampf to the task of studying the hazards in crime insurance, and finding

methods of removing them. Specifically, that meant that this man with a clockwork brain had investigated

Most amazing was the fact that Strampf had gained his results in a very short time. Although his preliminary

work had begun ten days ago, his really active efforts had been recent. Once he had chosen a plan of

"THE Melrue case," stated Strampf in his harsh, mechanical tone. "We know that Wally Drillick was

intercepted before he reached the Adair Apartments. I have identified the man who took Drillick's peace. His

"He is an agent of The Shadow," corrected Strampf. "The next agent that I identified is a man called Cliff

"Yes in a crime plan submitted by Duke Unrig. Marsland was the lieutenant hired by Unrig, to replace

Nogger Tellif. That explains how The Shadow interrupted the robbery of the armored truck."

Bradthaw sat back in his chair and contentedly puffed his halffinished cigar. Strampf's research was taking

"Marsland visited Unrig's hideout," continued Strampf. "He took the money that we paid Unrig for his recent

claims. Marsland gave the money to a slippery fellow called Hawkeye. Reputedly a sharp crook, but actually

Sorting the cards in his hand, Strampf called off other names in order, with items of information.

"Clyde Burke," he announced. "A reporter on the New York Classic; another of The Shadow's agents. He

picks up facts at police headquarters. Moe Shrevnitz, a taxicab driver. His independent cab is probably the

Strampf was again shifting the cards. Bradthaw put a question that he doubted could be answered. He was

"Through a contact man named Burbank," replied Strampf, promptly. "We tapped wires to overhear their

telephone calls. We have Burbank's telephone number, and have traced its location. There is another man

who sometimes receives reports from fellowagents. His name is Rutledge Mann. He is an investment

"That, I have not learned," admitted Strampf, in a rueful tone. "I know only that he poses as Lamont

Cranston; that he spends most of his time at the Cobalt Club, where he sometimes meets Police

"There is a real Lamont Cranston at present in South Africa. When I learned that, I thought that I might

"Why bother?" inserted Bradthaw. "As usual, Strampf, you have kept pressing for more details when you

have acquired a sufficiency. Since The Shadow passes as Cranston, we can regard him as Cranston, for the

Strampf looked doubtful. He found another card and studied it. He asked for a large city map. Bradthaw

produced one that was so huge it covered the entire top of his big desk. Strampf placed his finger on a

"The Shadow has a headquarters in this area," he declared. "I have narrowed it down to one place: a small

office building that has very few tenants. I have studied that building. There is only one portion that could

contain The Shadow's secret abode. That is the north section of the basement, near the rear wall."

STRAMPF had accomplished something much more remarkable than he supposed. He had discovered a spot

that crooks had sought for years, with such little success that the underworld no longer believed the place

"Let me remind you," continued Strampf, in serious tone, "that I have not seen The Shadow enter that

headquarters. That would be impossible, since he would go there only when cloaked in black, and the whole

"Obviously, The Shadow must have a private telephone wire connected through to his contact man, Burbank.

We may assume also that The Shadow's files and other equipment are located in that headquarters; the place

Strampf wanted to say more, but Bradthaw interrupted with a gesture. The insurance man's big brain was at

work. The mind that had devised crime insurance had a genius for crime itself. Bradthaw had foreseen a duel

"We shall act at once!" announced Bradthaw. "Not by a crude thrust, for The Shadow would meet a direct

move. Instead, we shall take quick, unexpected steps, until The Shadow finds himself confronted with the

very emergency that you have pictured, Strampf. We shall finally finish him, in the one place where he least

Bradthaw produced lists that gave the names of bigshots of Duke Unrig's ilk. With those names were details

of their organizations. A dozen bigshots had scores of smooth workers; hundreds of finger men and

Until today, each bigshot had worked independently. That was ended. Those bigshots were to become

As Bradthaw mapped his immediate campaign, Strampf and Caudrey looked on, swept by approving

admiration. They heard Bradthaw make telephone calls to certain contacts. The word was on its way.

IT was five o'clock when a chubby, roundfaced man came from the Badger Building and stepped aboard a

cab. He was Rutledge Mann, the investment broker who served The Shadow as a contact man and research

specialist. Mann promptly experienced the greatest surprise that he had ever encountered in The Shadow's

Two welldressed but hardfaced men stepped into the cab with him, one from each side. A thuggish driver

started the cab; in the rear seat, Mann sat prodded between two gun muzzles, too helpless to move.

At fivethirty Harry Vincent entered his room at the Hotel Metrolite. The telephone bell rang. An even voice,

a perfect imitation of Burbank's, gave brief instructions. That voice was talking from the hotel lobby; but

Harry never guessed it. The orders were to visit the apartment where Wally Drillick had formerly lived.

Harry reached that apartment, twenty minutes later. The moment that he entered three men overpowered him.

Meanwhile, Clyde Burke had received a faked Burbank call at the Classic office. In response, he left the

newspaper building and headed for the Rat's Hole, expecting to find something from Hawkeye in the rear

Instead of another suitcase, Clyde discovered a trio of beefy hoodlums. They ganged the reporter in expert

It was nearly eight o'clock, when Hawkeye sidled through the darkened alleyway where he sometimes met

Cliff Marsland. Tonight that gloom hid waiters other than Cliff. Hawkeye heard a suspicious stir; he whipped

A wall of attackers closed in behind him. Hawkeye was suppressed before he had time to fire a single shot.

At eightfifteen Cliff Marsland was ready for a short trip from his hideout. As he started from the window,

he heard a slight clang from the fire escape. A husky was through, grabbing for Cliff before he could produce

Cliff settled that rowdy with one punch; smeared a second who came through. A third attacker piled upon

him; as Cliff grappled, others crashed the barred door of the room. Five against one, they added Cliff to the

At half past eight, Moe Shrevnitz was about ready to leave a hack stand near Times Square to head for the

Cobalt Club, where The Shadow wanted him at nine o'clock. A couple of men in tuxedos started to board the

cab. In thick halfdrunk style, one gave the address of a hotel where they wanted to go.

The hotel was on the way to the Cobalt Club. Moe decided to take the passengers as the easiest way to avoid

a delaying argument. When the cab reached the darkness of a side street, the men in back were no longer

One reached through the front window and cooled the back of Moe's neck with a revolver muzzle. He told

There two lurkers got in. A few minutes later one of the newcomers was handling the cab, while Moe was

Crews of crooks had rounded up The Shadow's agents. The stage was set for the trapping of The Shadow

LUCK had favored Marvin Bradthaw far more than the crimemaster knew. Bradthaw had planned well in

taking off the agents one by one; and he had wisely left Burbank until later. He knew where the contact man

could be reached at any time; and Burbank was the one person who communicated directly with The Shadow.

In the case of Rutledge Mann, Bradthaw had been exceptionally lucky. On almost any other day, Mann's

disappearance would have been promptly noted by The Shadow. If it had been, Bradthaw's plans would have

been broken. Through sheer luck however, Bradthaw had picked the time when The Shadow expected no

At five o'clock, Mann usually went to an office on Twentythird Street and there deposited an envelopeload

of reports in the mail box of a mythical person named Jonas. The Shadow came later to pick up that envelope.

There had been no need for Mann to accumulate information regarding large insurance companies. The

Shadow was handling that matter himself. As Lamont Cranston, he was at the Cobalt Club, going through a

It happened that the Cobalt Club was well provided with financial reports of insurance companies. The

Shadow could not have picked a better place to look for the information that he wanted.

During crime's recent run there had been two peculiar phases. Bigshots had followed the odd policy of

delaying after plans were made. That had frequently enabled The Shadow to forestall them. The bigshots

had also kept on with crimes after they should ordinarily have admitted themselves licked.

Duke Unrig had outlasted the others. His case had produced the evidence of payment received for

It showed why the others had kept on despite The Shadow's pressure. It indicated that all had received

payments when they failed. That meant disbursements must have amounted to millions of dollars.

Only some huge corporation could have furnished so much money. Banks and utilities had big funds; but

there was no reason why they should make crime. Insurance companies were the only other source. That gave

REGARDED commercially, crime was a billiondollar industry. Although outlawed, it was organized much

like big business, but it had lacked one advantage: protection against unforeseen losses. It had remained for

A straight survey could reveal the mastermind behind the racket. He would have to be a man who knew

insurance, with an organization that included actuaries, brokers and investigators. He would need a legitimate

insurance business of great size; both to serve as a smoke screen and to provide the cash for payment of

Big mutual companies had too many officers to be tied up with the racket. So were concerns too specialized

in one form of insurance. The field was narrowed to large corporations that controlled a great diversity of

He would be able to shift funds as he chose. In with that group would be the hidden enterprise of crime

Occupants of the club library could have noticed the slight smile that showed upon the lips of Lamont

Cranston, when his finger rested on a page that listed the Solidarity Insurance Company. The same finger

reached the name of the organization's president, the man who controlled it outright.

No other man in the insurance world could match the manipulations that Bradthaw had managed. The reserve

funds at his disposal were huge, although he would have to account for them. Bradthaw could handle that

He had the resources to finance crime insurance. He had the shell composed of those legitimate companies

STROLLING from the library, Lamont Cranston reached the foyer and entered a telephone booth. He put in a

It was actually Burbank who had responded. The lack of reports was not unexpected. The Shadow's agents

Leaving the club, Cranston reached the sidewalk. There, the doorman called a big limousine from across the

Looking about, Cranston saw no sign of Moe's taxi. He had intended to send the limousine to New Jersey and

use the cab instead. Since Moe was absent, Cranston used the limousine. Once inside, he began a

From beneath the rear seat, he produced garments of black. Soon he was cloaked; a slouch hat fitted over his

head. Lamont Cranston had become The Shadow. As The Shadow, he intended immediate moves.

There had been no reports from agents; yet it was after nine o'clock and Moe's cab had not arrived. That

meant that Moe should have reported to Burbank. That made the lack of other reports significant.

To The Shadow, the lull of events foretold an immediate storm. As the limousine rolled along, he saw

As the car turned a corner, a slouchy panhandler noticed it and gave a hand motion. A taxi swung in to follow

the limousine. At the next corner, a hotel doorman saw the big car and the trailing cab. He bobbed inside to

Going southward on an avenue, other cars took up the limousine's trail. At another hotel, two men in evening

Bigshots had responded to Bradthaw's call. The shock troops of the underworld were out to get The

Shadow. Underworld denizens were everywhere; and among the hundreds were men whom the law had never

identified with crime. Finger men and silkhat crooks were massing to reach crimeland's greatest foe.

The Shadow performed the very sort of move that Marvin Bradthaw had anticipated.

The crime executive had arranged this display of crooks for The Shadow's benefit. To The Shadow, it looked

The case was quite the contrary. Bradthaw wanted The Shadow to drop the part of Cranston. The supercrook

As a matter of policy, The Shadow decided to leave the limousine and let crooks find it empty. That,

ordinarily, would make them suppose that they had made a wrong guess about The Shadow. In Cranston's

calm tone, The Shadow told the chauffeur where to stop. The big car rolled into a side street near Greenwich

The Shadow was gone before a single pursuer was in sight. Cars passed; signals were given. Men approached

The Shadow had taken a passageway to the next street. He followed a twisty path; found a parked taxi and

Bradthaw had foreseen that move. Henchmen had been told to watch for it. Finger men had flooded this area,

moving in like troops. Every cab was spotted; someone suspected the one in which The Shadow rode. By the

A whispered laugh was The Shadow's response, when he looked behind him. He planned to shake these

trailers, then double back upon them. He used Cranston's tone, to tell the driver he wanted more speed. It was

The cab neared the gloomy elevated station well ahead of the pack. A quick look from the window; The

Shadow saw a local train coming north. He called for a stop on the far side of the avenue. He fluttered a bill

A dash up the steps, through the turnstile, and The Shadow was across the station platform. He vaulted the

gate to the rear open platform of the last car. There was a shout. Passengers leaving the train sprang aboard it

just as the cars started. Through the door, The Shadow saw them making in his direction.

Some finger man had sent a call for reserves. A dozen thugs had boarded this train one station down the line.

The train was rattling rapidly as the thugs came through. Guns were in fists; passengers were crouching along

the seats. Crooks had the edge. They could fire at The Shadow. He could not respond without dealing death

Swinging to the left of the open platform, The Shadow leaned half from the car. Guns barked. Bullets

The cloaked fighter was completely revealed by an approaching glare, that was accompanied by a heavy roar.

An elevated express was tearing northward along the center track, to overtake the local. Although the express

The Shadow met them in a sudden grapple, before the first man could aim. The fellow's body made a barrier

against the pair behind him. The Shadow's long arm came across the front man's head. His hand sledged a

Then the headlight's glare ended. The express was passing the local, its wheels on a level with the windows

The front thug shifted. The remaining man in back came in upon The Shadow. Guns spoke in that darkness.

THAT was the sign for a rush. More gunmen came through. As they did, The Shadow gripped the side rail of

the platform. He made a quick spring to the gate top, poised a half second and did an outward dive, his

extended arms speeding upward. Guns beneath his cloak, The Shadow was not ready for the new surge. He

Three crooks who jostled to the platform saw The Shadow's outward dive. They saw his hands make a quick

clamp on a platform rail six feet above. That rail belonged to the last car of the speeding express. As he

The crooks fired. Their gunshots jabbed blankness. The Shadow was whisked from view before they could

snap their triggers. The whizzing express had whipped him with it; his powerful hands had retained their

As the local halted at the next stop, thugs piled to the station platform to make a hurried flight. On the upper

level, far ahead, they saw the twinkling rear lights of the dwindling express. Its clatter was lost; instead, those

The Shadow had eluded all pursuit. In the clear, he could evade the cordons of underworld men who sought

Speedily, The Shadow would reach his sanctum. From that base, he intended to prepare a counterthrust

against crime. Always, in the past, the sanctum had proven the perfect stronghold in emergency.

Tonight, the case would be exactly the opposite. A supercriminal had expected thugs to fail when they sought

The Shadow's sanctum, hitherto so hidden and unknown, was the very spot where Marvin Bradthaw wanted

STREETS were desolate and dark near the sanctum. A long circuit had brought The Shadow past areas where

camouflaged crooks were still on the move. It had been many blocks since he had seen any of those thuggish

Reaching an alleyway beside an old office building, The Shadow went through that gloomy route.

He passed an obscure side door that led into the ground floor of the building. That offered one route by which

The Shadow could reach the sanctum; tonight, he preferred another. Rounding the rear of the building, he

entered a blind passage on the other side. The Shadow stopped at a blank, brick wall.

There, in total darkness, the cloaked being felt for two bricks that were set about four feet apart. Each

projected slightly; they could be discerned by touch. The Shadow pressed these bricks. The double action

A section of cement slid inward from The Shadow's feet. It moved under the building wall leaving an

invisible space. With a quick slide The Shadow was through the gap. The chunk of cement paving slid

A turn through a short passage. The Shadow pressed a secret spring; a steel barrier slid aside. Black drapes

were beyond it. The Shadow spread the portion where the curtains joined. He was in the sable darkness of the

Burbank's signal. The contact man was trying to call the sanctum. Reaching for the earphones The Shadow

Those two words told new disaster. The voice was not Burbank's. Though it was the same imitation that had

fooled Harry Vincent, it was detected by The Shadow. He pictured immediately what had happened.

Burbank had actually talked over the line when The Shadow had spoken from the Cobalt Club. Crooks had

allowed that under the orders given by their master, Bradthaw. However, once The Shadow had been pushed

The contact man's station had been occupied. An impostor had promptly put in a standing call to the sanctum.

There could be only one reason for that move. Crooks wanted to know when The Shadow reached there. A

IN the next two minutes The Shadow made a rapid calculation. He figured what Bradthaw's policy would be.

Scores of mobsters would arrive here without delay to surround the building that contained the hidden

Instead of a place of security the sanctum had become a snare. Men of evil had guessed the location of The

Without delay, The Shadow retraced his course out to the rear entrance. He slid the cement inward; raised his

head above its level and listened. He was too late. Already he could hear the low growls of searchers in the

Bradthaw must have ordered dozens of thugs to be quartered in empty buildings hereabouts. The Shadow's

response to the faked Burbank call had been the touchoff. Word had flashed instantly for all hands to

In those tense moments The Shadow foresaw exactly what Bradthaw's course would be. Crooks would plant

explosives throughout the ground floor of the building and dynamite the whole structure from its moorings.

If The Shadow attempted to make a break before the blast came, lights would glare everywhere in this

district. The Shadow would be in the center of a crookmanned area faced by odds that even he could not

A break would be as bad as a wait. Either meant sure death. There was one other course that seemed even

worse; nevertheless it carried the unexpected. That, to The Shadow, offered a possible advantage. He made

Rising from the pit beside the wall, The Shadow glimmered a flashlight upon the nearest crooks. From his

lips came a strident challenge a taunting laugh that none could mistake. As answering lights burned toward

A dozen gunmen saw their black clad foe. They opened a rapid barrage with their revolvers. The Shadow

dropped through the opening as the first wild bullets zipped. The cement barrier slithered shut above him. A

Back in his sanctum, The Shadow heard the muffled boom. It had worked as he wanted. Vengeful crooks

were coming through. They had found a route to the sanctum. They wanted to trap The Shadow there.

That meant that the big explosion would be delayed. Men of evil could not dynamite the entire building,

IN the sanctum, The Shadow glimmered a flashlight upon another corner. There stood a large metal filing

cabinet high, deep, with four strong drawers. The Shadow pulled out the drawers like steps.

Using the broad front edges, he ascended. He moved a portion of the ceiling above his head. A moment later,

he was in a thickish passage, with a wall beyond. The Shadow slithered a steel barrier to one side. He sprang

The Shadow had come out near the side door of the office building. His secret panel was located beneath the

stairway. It was only a dozen feet to the door; but the way was blocked. Thugs shouted from the main

corridor; others sprang in from the side alley. Another armed dozen stood on hand to block The Shadow.

Swinging his hand from right to left, The Shadow jabbed challenging shots; then bounded back through the

Gunmen fired. Their bullets clanged the barrier as it rode into place. A few moments later, they were

hammering the steel panel with their guns, shouting for experts to come and "soup" it.

Down in the sanctum, The Shadow heard the blast that came from above. His attackers had blown the inside

entrance like they had handled the one outside. The Shadow paid little attention. He was busy.

From the filing cabinet, he was pulling out sheaves of papers that he needed, stuffing them temporarily

Foemen were hammering at the barrier beyond the curtains. Others were pounding the ceiling above the filing

cabinet. The Shadow moved swiftly to the end wall of the sanctum. He parted curtains to reveal a small door.

Black walls glistened. So did benches, tables, other items of equipment; all were of black metal or smooth

This was The Shadow's laboratory. He had a use for it. He brought big beakers from shelves; poured out

mixtures that fizzed in hydrometer jars. The Shadow lighted Bunsen burners. Though his actions were

Soon, the steel door of the laboratory slid shut. Its closing was drowned by the fierce hisses that came from

the hydrometer jars. A thickening odor filled the lab. It was sweetish; but too much so to be pleasant.

That smell did not reach the sanctum. All remained silent in that blackshrouded room. Ominous minutes

ticked past. They foretold that something was due. At the end of four such minutes, double disaster struck.

A SHARP blast shook the door behind the corner curtains. There was a pause; then a similar explosion

sounded from the ceiling above the file cabinet. Half a minute later, invaders were pouring in from two

They made their way through the remnants of the lower door. Others came down like monkeys, from the

There was The Shadow's table, the lamp above it. The earphones, hanging on the wall beside the signal light.

There were other items; one, a small black coffer that contained The Shadow's archives.

Thugs glared suspiciously at the black drapes lining the walls, as if they expected The Shadow to blaze shots

through those shrouding sable curtains. The invaders were ready to riddle the hangings, just as a precaution,

It was Strampf. He came down through the opening above the file cabinet. At his command, henchmen

covered every corner with their guns, while others ripped away the black curtains. Bare walls showed instead,

except at one end of the sanctum. There, Strampf saw the closed door of the laboratory.

The cadaverous fellow chuckled. Strampf knew that the door could open only to an inner room. Crooks had

Strampf ordered the thugs to roll up the curtains; also the black, tufted carpet that covered the floor. Those

bundles went up through the ceiling, where newcomers were working with an electric drill to widen the

While the drill's rattle continued, Strampf pulled open the drawers of the filing cabinet.

He found each drawer stuffed with records, arranged in classifications and subdivided into alphabetical

groups. After that inspection, Strampf closed the drawers and ordered men to hoist the cabinet up through the

It took four men to do it, for the cabinet was of heavy steel; but the hole had been enlarged sufficiently to take

A ladder came down after the cabinet was gone. Strampf beckoned to the men with the drill. They descended,

bringing a long insulated cord with them. They shoved the drill over to the laboratory door, where they saw

The drill began its bite, slicing deep into the steel. Behind the men who handled it were six others, all with

Two more arrived with a big cylinder that had a hose and nozzle. They were ready to squirt poison gas into

Behind the evil group stood Strampf, his eyes livid with eager pleasure. Turned to crime, that genius no

longer limited himself to clockwork investigation methods. He was finding joy in the fruits of his own ugly

Within a few minutes, Strampf would finish the deed that many had tried, but none had completed. Though

his name was unknown to these crooks who took orders from him, they would spread his name throughout

AS soon as a chunk dropped from the center of the steel door, Strampf and the others saw the glow of the

laboratory lights. Cautious eyes took quick peeks into the inner room. Strampf stepped forward to view the

Those lights were clouded by a smoky vapor that filled the laboratory. Even the fizzing hydrometer jars were

covered by the whitish gas. The roaring Bunsen burners made arrowlike tufts of flame amid the smoke.

That gas would put one to sleep, and more. Somewhere in the settling cloud, Strampf could picture The

Shadow, prone on the floor. Rather than be met with bullets in a hopeless battle, The Shadow had chosen

suicide. So Strampf reasoned, assuming that an oversupply of the sweet gas would be deadly.

There was another possibility. The gas might not prove fatal. Perhaps The Shadow hoped that his enemies

Taking another look Strampf saw an obscure black object at the far end of the smokefilled laboratory. It was

visible only when the gas took a chance swirl. Strampf was convinced that he saw the huddled shape of The

If The Shadow wanted gas he could have it. Strampf beckoned to the men with the hose. They thrust the

nozzle through the opening and pulled the lever of the cylinder. Deadly gas began to mingle with the white

Fortunately for Strampf, he had stepped back. That whitish gas had a purpose that Strampf did not suspect.

The room had not quite reached its proper saturation when the drillers had finished making the hole. Some

gas had trickled through the opening; but the hydrometer jars were still increasing the amount.

Hardly had the underlings shoved the hose into the laboratory before the whitish vapor acted. The air was

overcharged with gas. The burners ignited it. The whole air coughed with one fierce explosion that produced

The steel door shattered outward. The laboratory walls cracked; its floor collapsed. Down came the ceiling

above it; the whole room became a crumbled pit. The floor of the sanctum quaked. Its stripped walls

The blasted door carried the two gas handlers with it. They lay dead, their bodies shattered. About them were

crawling thugs, some crippled, others merely shaken. All were groping for the exit at the corner of the

Strampf was by the ladder. He took one look at the ruined laboratory knew that no one could have stayed

there and survived. He clambered up the ladder followed by two others. More had gone out by the other

THAT thought strummed through Strampf's brain, as he reached the outside door. In the alleyway was a truck

Strampf could hear shrieking sirens; the staccato gun barks that told wide battle was in progress. Cordons of

crooks were fighting off the law, while those in the center completed the destruction of The Shadow.

Clear air quickened Strampf's thoughts. He wanted to cover crime, to keep it a permanent mystery. That

could be done. Strampf gave the right order. Henchmen were to set the charges that had originally been

Five minutes later, there was a silent, deserted area in the midst of the wide circle where hordes of crooks

skirmished with squads of arriving police. The truck was ten blocks away, finding a route that a convoy of

The night air was ripped by a tremendous upheaval of flame. The volcanic blast tossed chunks of masonry

above surrounding buildings. Ground shook; even the elevated posts seemed to rattle from the vibrations that

Then the muffled roar of the settling debris. The shudder was ended. Tons of masonry had crushed all

remnants of the hollow chamber that had once been The Shadow's sanctum. It had gone, with his ruined

Even the body of The Shadow, like those of the buried crooks, would be consumed by the scorching gaseous

The truck was away to safety. It rolled southward, into Manhattan's financial district. It reached a skyscraper

that pointed far into the darkened sky. The building occupied a full block; at one corner was a special

In a gloomy confined space, picked men worked as Strampf ordered. They removed everything that had come

from the sanctum; they loaded the goods into a freight elevator. They rode forty stories upward.

They unloaded the cargo at the end of a short corridor. A door stood open at the left. The load went through;

SOON afterward, Strampf stood alone in a squarish room that his men had carpeted with black. The walls

were hung with the sable draperies from The Shadow's sanctum. The table was in one corner, the archives

coffer beside it and the bluish light above. The file cabinet was in the corner opposite.

Strampf broke open the coffer that contained the archives; made a brief study of the books that it contained.

He went to the file cabinet. He opened each drawer and made a quick, but methodical, run through the index

Strampf was working by a regular light that hung in this room. That light and the vaulted roof were the only

features that made the place differ from The Shadow's sanctum, as Strampf had found it.

Satisfied with his general inspection, Strampf left the tower room. He closed a heavy door behind him and

bolted it solidly from the outside. His footsteps rang out on the steep metal stairs. Strampf had finished with

Strampf would not have credited his own senses had he remained to learn what happened afterward in the

First there was a dull metallic sound from the file cabinet a sound that came like some unruly echo from the

past. There was a swish, somewhere in the room; a flashlight formed a gleaming beam.

A whispered laugh echoed in the darkness as the sweeping ray completed its circuit from the room. That

No longer was The Shadow a mere wraith from the past. He was himself; his hand turned on the bluish light.

Beneath that glow came blackgloved hands, the gloves peeled off. A gleaming gem showed from a finger to

That gem was The Shadow's girasol the rare fire opal that he used as token of his identity. Those hands

produced the vital documents that The Shadow had bundled from his files before the explosion.

In the past, The Shadow had returned in amazing fashion from depths to which powerful enemies had

consigned him. Tonight's ruins had been greater than any before. Often, The Shadow had come into strange

places after escapes from death; never before had his first outlet been so unique as this one.

Its location was changed but the fittings were the same. Strampf had taken them as trophies, for Marvin

AFTER a short while, The Shadow returned to the file cabinet using his flashlight. The glow explained the

The drawers of the cabinet were deep; but they did not extend clear to the back of the cabinet. They were

Strampf had not noticed that difference; for the rear space was too cramped to hold a hidden person. That

The base of the cabinet was heavy; it formed a sixinch platform that seemed shorter because it tapered. That

base was hollow; moreover the bottom of the lowermost drawer was raised a matter of a few inches.

The space in the bottom of the cabinet was large enough for a person's legs when that person was seated

Though neither the base nor the back space could have concealed The Shadow alone the two together had

been ample. In seated position, he had been half in the base, half in the back. With the drawers locked so they

could not be pulled clear from the cabinet, The Shadow had remained secure from discovery.

The cabinet was where The Shadow had gone after fixing the gas machinery in the laboratory. All that

Strampf had seen through the smoke was one of the low black benches that had been part of the lair's

Relocking the cabinet so that the drawers could not be completely taken from it, The Shadow made another

inspection of his files. He had taken the most important papers that he needed; he had decided on a few

others, having gained plenty of time to look for them. He replaced several that he had taken in his hurry, but

Extinguishing the blue light, The Shadow moved through the darkness of the restored sanctum. He found

openings in the drapery; used his flashlight on the walls behind the curtains. There were spaces in back, for

the walls curved downward from a dome. Irregular and unfinished, they had steel struts and rafters.

The Shadow found a steelshuttered window. He loosened it. He swung outward, while wind whipped

through to sway the black curtains. The Shadow closed the shutters, jamming them tight.

He was on a ledge forty stories above the street. Far below lay myriad lights that stretched like a gleaming

From depths below the city's streets, The Shadow had traveled to heights, along with his transplanted

sanctum. The altitude and the location told him that he was atop the Solidarity Tower. Below, ornamental

The descent was a dizzy one, but The Shadow accepted it as a simple route to some convenient office a few

The Shadow swung downward from the ledge. He was starting his return to earth to begin a twofold

campaign. Supposedly dead, The Shadow intended to preserve the illusion. His tasks might intertwine; but

After that, The Shadow would be ready for a thrust against the supercrook who had so relentlessly sought his

life. Despite the protection that he could command from hordes of crime, Marvin Bradthaw would feel The

EARLY the next afternoon, Strampf appeared in Bradthaw's office. The ruggedfaced insurance magnate

greeted the cadaverous investigator with a smile and a cigar. Strampf sat down wearily. His haggard

"I read your report, Strampf," approved Bradthaw. "I commend the manner in which you handled matters."

Strampf looked pleased. He had not been entirely satisfied with everything that had happened.

"Our object was to destroy The Shadow," continued Bradthaw. "That accomplished, we have made new

activities possible. True, there was a great stir last night. Dozens of our men were shot down by the law. But

"The bigshots will have to remain quiet for a time," reminded Strampf. "That will postpone the issuing of

"Only for a few weeks, Strampf. Meanwhile, I shall complete one transaction, that will make the books show

their required business. Caudrey is coming here soon. I intend to issue him a Preferred policy on the Melrue

Strampf looked pleased. Caudrey's proposition was a surefire one. As Bradthaw said, it would produce more

than the minimum profit that was expected within the next two weeks. After that, business would be as brisk

"There was something that I did not mention," stated Strampf. "I visited The Shadow's agents at midnight and

"Yes sir. That is our best policy considering the incomplete state of The Shadow's files. There are questions

"Of course. When we prove to them that The Shadow is dead, they will be demoralized! But what was the

Strampf brought out report cards that he had picked up that morning, from guards in charge of the captured

"The prisoners had a radio," he explained. "They were listening to news flashes; but none mentioned The

"Unfortunately after I left, that fellow Burbank began operations. He turned off the radio. While the others

chatted, he rigged the set into a sending device and started to transmit messages in code."

"Burbank did it," insisted Strampf. "The guards caught on at last and stopped him. This morning, I checked

with some of my operatives who listen to police calls nightly. They heard Burbank's signals."

"No. They were in a special code. My men did not know that Burbank sent them, until I checked on the time

that the signals were given. Of course, the prisoners have been deprived of their radio "

"And that settles it," interrupted Bradthaw. "The only message that Burbank could possibly have dispatched

was one stating that he and his companions were not in danger. The only recipient on whom Burbank counted

was The Shadow; and he was dead. Burbank could not have told where he and the other prisoners were, for

Bradthaw regarded the matter as closed; and Strampf concurred. The investigator reported on another matter.

He had learned through cablegrams that the real Lamont Cranston would soon be in London.

"Excellent!" decided Bradthaw. "We shall start the false report that Cranston has sailed for England. His

absence here will be accounted for. We shall see to it that the real Cranston is interviewed in London after he

ANNOUNCEMENT came that Mr. Caudrey was outside. The actuary was admitted. Caudrey had read the

newspapers; he felt sure that The Shadow had been eliminated in the explosion. He was highly pleased when

"Here are the papers concerning the Melrue money," stated Caudrey. "I brought them along for your

The documents impressed Bradthaw. First there was the letter written by old Melrue to his friend Wilmot. It

stated definitely that Wilmot would find "undisbursed funds" within the wall of the study in the brownstone

Caudrey produced account sheets that had been among Melrue's papers. His lists showed clearly that more

than three million dollars had been retained, apart from the million divided between George and Francine.

With these, Caudrey supplied a floor plan of the old brownstone house. It showed a closet in a thick wall that

made a partition between the secondfloor study and the hallway that passed it. The closet however did not

occupy the entire space. The wall was four feet thick: and there was a corresponding width beyond the end of

"Provided that anything is in there," declared Bradthaw, in his modified bass tone, "we shall issue you a

threemilliondollar policy Preferred Class, Triple A. At the usual premium, three hundred thousand

"With the premium deductible?" queried Caudrey. "I have the ninety thousand to buy the house, with cash for

"Premium deductible from the proceeds," agreed Bradthaw. "But with our special Speculation Rider attached

The Speculation Rider was a new one to Caudrey. It was not dependent upon the figures that the actuary had

"We found it necessary to have actual proof that certain funds or jewels existed," declared Bradthaw. "If they

were seen by witnesses that was sufficient. In this case we have a method of learning if some object is in the

wall. But that will not prove that said object say a metal chest contains the funds.

"Therefore the rider. When the wall is opened, it must be done in the presence of myself, or some

representative. If the funds are intact but less than the estimated three million, we cannot pay the difference.

"If it's all there but only a million instead of three I pay a hundred thousand dollars. That makes it quits."

"Yes," smiled Bradthaw. "And if there is nothing, you receive nothing and pay nothing."

"The Speculation Rider's fair enough," declared Caudrey. "But how are you going to find out if there's

"Get hold of your proxy, Hurden," he ordered. "Have him go to that lawyer's office what's the fellow's

"Have Hurden see Reddingham. Tell him he wants to inspect the house; that he wants to bring in furnace

men, plumbers, electricians, to see that everything is in good shape. We'll do the rest."

"He's to be waiting for a telephone call. You'll make it, telling him what to do."

ONE hour later, Hurden reached Reddingham's office. The proxy was a dapper, middlesize man; a contrast

The attorney hemmed and hawed, declaring that he was no real estate agent; but finally he decided to show

The pair took a taxi trip to the obscure street where the mansion stood. There, they met George and Francine

The house was furnished, but in an ugly, oldfashioned style. None of the furniture was old enough to come

Realizing that he was paying more than double the mansion's value, Hurden took the stand that he expected

to buy the place furnished. George Melrue raised a whiny objection at first; then agreed. Hurden seemed

The girl totally disliked the whole procedure. Though Hurden seemed satisfied with the deal, she felt sorry

The electricians had arrived, bringing an oddlooking apparatus that they called an improved "circuit tester."

They started through the house. Furnace men and plumbers were next. They kept everyone busy with

questions, while the electricians were on the second floor. The electricians came downstairs to say that the

WITHIN the next hour, a special messenger brought an envelope to the offices of the Solidarity Insurance

Company. It was delivered to Bradthaw, who still had Caudrey and Strampf in his office.

Bradthaw opened the envelope and brought out three but recently developed photographs. He smiled as he

Each picture was a mass of blurred gray; but a solid chunk of blocky blackness showed in the center. The

photos had been taken at different ranges; hence the black rectangles varied in size. Bradthaw pointed to

"The gray," he explained, "is the wall of old Melrue's study. The black object is obviously a metal chest, three

feet wide and two feet high. Estimated at two feet from front to back. This photo" he handed the third to

"Xray photos!" exclaimed Caudrey. "Taken by the fake electricians! But how did they handle it?"

"With a camouflaged apparatus that they called a 'circuit tester'; we have used the device on previous

Bradthaw lifted the desk telephone. He gave the Melrue number to the switchboard operator; told her to ask

for Mr. Hurden. He added that no name was to be mentioned. Bradthaw handed the telephone to Caudrey.

Soon Hurden's voice came over the wire. Eagerly, Caudrey told Hurden to buy the old mansion.

As soon as Caudrey had replaced the telephone, Bradthaw produced a fully typed insurance policy from his

desk drawer and handed it to the actuary. He also gave Caudrey a promissory note made out for three

hundred thousand dollars. Caudrey signed it. Looking through the policy, he noted that the Speculation Rider

"Hurden will have the deed tomorrow," declared Caudrey. "He tells me that the place is furnished. He can

"And so shall I," inserted Bradthaw. "At your invitation, Caudrey. Strampf will stop in to see me on some

matter. Meanwhile, Strampf will see to it that the house is undisturbed, between tonight and tomorrow."

"We take care of such details, Caudrey. After all, I now have more at stake than you. You can rest assured

Bradthaw spoke with richvoiced confidence. Perhaps the crime profiteer would have lacked that deeptoned

WHILE Hurden was completing his inspection of the old Melrue mansion, a middleaged man was seated in

the small living room of a comfortably furnished apartment. His eyes were keen; his hardened face looked

Yet when the man turned on a light to offset the gathering dusk, the glow wrought a transformation. His

features, relaxed, showed a kindliness that belied the first impression that they gave. Those who knew this

His name was Slade Farrow. He was a criminologist who reached deep into the tortured souls of outlawed

unfortunates. They trusted Farrow because he looked like one of their own ilk. He adopted that hardened pose

Under Farrow's guidance, desperate men came from the depths. They believed in Farrow; he made them

Farrow did not reach down to help. He plunged in beside the men he aided; pushed them out to security. He

had spent as many as six months of a single year within the walls of a penitentiary, as a fellowconvict with a

To Farrow, such service brought its rewards. Greatest of them all had been his meeting with that mysterious

Battling crime was but one side of The Shadow's work. The Shadow recognized that the majority of criminals

were past claim, but he frequently discovered those who were exceptions. Sometimes, The Shadow set them

straight himself; others, those cases that needed prolonged efforts, he turned over to Farrow.

Last night, Farrow had done The Shadow an important service. Listening to news reports, tuning in on police

calls, he had picked up coded signals that he understood. They were from Burbank, The Shadow's contact

Learning that Burbank was a prisoner with others, Farrow had not called the contact number, which he knew.

That call had come this morning. The Shadow needed Farrow; wanted him to be ready. Farrow had reported

Burbank's message. Since then, he had been listening for more calls. None had come. Farrow knew that the

AS Farrow pondered, he realized that he was not alone. He looked about. In a chair close beside him sat a

blackcloaked visitor who had entered like a ghost. For a moment, Farrow was frankly startled; then he

Calmly, The Shadow recounted the events of the preceding night. Farrow sat in amazement; his face lighted

when he heard of The Shadow's reappearance in the transferred sanctum. Then came The Shadow's statement

"Their present contact cannot be restored. They must be reached. I have arranged a method. In my file cabinet

Farrow nodded. He knew of the device. The Shadow had taken it from a dangerous criminal. The ray that it

projected could put electrical equipment such as burglar alarms completely out of action.

"They will learn two facts," continued The Shadow. "First, where the apparatus can be found; second that

Burbank understands it. The device will puzzle them. They will take it to Burbank. In the base of the

"To send a shortwave beam!" exclaimed Farrow. "To be picked up by direction finders!"

"You will have one here," informed The Shadow. "The other will be at Doctor Sayre's."

Again Farrow nodded. He knew Rupert Sayre, the Park Avenue physician whom The Shadow had once saved

from death. With two directionfinders keyed for the expected signal, Farrow saw the prospective results.

WHEN he left Farrow's, The Shadow followed an untraceable course. All his amazing skill at silent unseen

travel was in use tonight. On many occasions, The Shadow risked moves that might enable persons to gain

chance glimpses of him. Tonight and on nights to come he could not afford that policy.

The Shadow was dead; so at least, the underworld believed. The Shadow did not intend to permit any

arguments to the contrary; not even the guess that some hophead might have seen The Shadow's ghost.

Stealth was doubly imperative; for The Shadow was approaching a spot where he believed that crooks might

be. He reached the street where the old Melrue mansion stood dark, forgotten, formidable. Within those

walls lay some secret important to The Shadow. By finding it, he could bait the supercrook, Marvin

As The Shadow crept close to the house, he sensed that it was watched. Someone stirred in a darkened space

The Shadow waited until the prowling watcher had gone past. Other times he would have chosen the simpler

course of overpowering the fellow in the darkness. That was out, tonight. The Shadow intended to leave no

The Shadow entered the house with absolute silence after working on a cellar window. He reached the

ground floor. He heard men moving about. Hurden had filched a backdoor key and had sent it along to

The Shadow waited until he heard no more sounds. He moved to the main stairway; ascended to the second

There, he saw a glimmer from a door that was ajar. He peered into the old study. He saw three toughs,

playing pinochle at a table with a wellmuffled light. Window shades were drawn to cut off the glow. The

In the gloom, The Shadow sensed something that made him return for another brief peer into the study. He

checked instantly on the fact that he had learned. The wall between the study and the hall was of more than

Following the rear hall, The Shadow reached the back stairs. He descended. He heard sounds in the kitchen;

The kitchen connected with a pantry and a hallway. Using a guarded flashlight that cast a tiny beam, The

Shadow discovered a thickened wall between the pantry and the hall. It was directly beneath the wall that

Stealthily, The Shadow descended to the cellar, which was unwatched. In the cellar he found the exact spot

Extinguishing his flashlight, The Shadow began to pry at the ceiling boards. The jimmy that he used was

REACHING through the space, The Shadow found a hollow within the wall between pantry and hall. He

knew what it had been: the lower level of a dumbwaiter shaft between the pantry and the study just above it.

Remaining boards gave him a foothold. The space was cramped; that made it all the better. Crossbeams in

Crouched high in the shaft, The Shadow found the secondfloor level stripped with boards. He probed them;

met resistance except near the back wall. Patiently, he chiseled through, muffling his efforts to perfection.

The object was only two feet across. Over the top, The Shadow discovered clamps and released them. The

sound was not sufficient to penetrate the wall and reach the pinochleplaying crooks. Raising the lid of the

His arm through to its shoulder, The Shadow removed the contents by degrees. The last stacked bundles

would have been difficult; but they were banded together. Confident that he had completely emptied the chest

The Shadow started the lid on a downswing and caught it with one hand. He reached over and pressed the

It was a long slow task, getting those spoils down to the cellar. There, The Shadow was forced to remove his

Under the tiny flashlight, he calculated that this negotiable wealth totaled more than three million dollars.

The garb beneath the cloak was black. It served The Shadow well when he left the cellar window. Timing his

departure for the fading paces of a watcher, The Shadow moved away, carrying his tightbagged cloak over

He found a taxi a block away and entered it; then spoke to the driver in a gruff voice that suited a chance

Riding to Farrow's, The Shadow dumped the bundled cloak when he opened the cab door. He used a bare

hand to pay the driver. The cab pulled away; stepping from behind it, The Shadow scooped up the bundled

Farrow's amazement was great, when be found himself the temporary holder of three million dollars. He

heard the details from The Shadow, while the visitor was shrouding himself with the cloak. After The

Shadow had gone, Farrow still sat pondering over the amazing methods that The Shadow used.

Farrow believed that no one could have been so astonished as he had been tonight. He was wrong. The

IT came when Francine Melrue entered her apartment. The girl came in as lightly as she had that night when

Harry Vincent had waited there masked. Francine's jewels had gone to a safedeposit vault. She expected no

She saw none tonight, until she stepped toward the bedroom. Francine was reaching for the shoulder strap of

the new evening gown she wore, when she halted. Her eyes were fixed in amazement.

The camera man who had snapped Francine's picture for the society picture should have been present at that

moment. There was beauty in Francine's startlement. Those sparkling eyes were brilliant; her even face and

The light gave them a sapphire blue that matched the gems that had tumbled from Cardona's pocket; for

Francine's eyes had opened wide. Before her stood the shrouded figure that Francine knew from the past.

Her stare met his burning gaze. Then came that determined set of Francine's chin. It might have marred her

Quietly, The Shadow spoke. His tone was a whisper; sinister, perhaps, to others; but not to Francine. She

knew The Shadow's prowess. She accepted him as a friend. That voice could mean disaster to those who

plotted crime. For Francine, it carried confidence that filled her with strength of her own.

In Francine, The Shadow had found one of those rare persons who understood best when they knew all. An

absolute judge of character and courage, The Shadow chose the strongest course. He told the girl of the

wealth that was rightfully hers and her brother's. He added that it was sought by dangerous criminals; that to

Francine's reply was one of readiness. Whatever The Shadow proposed, she would carry through. From

"A supposed threat," he stated, "from the crooks who failed to gain your jewels. They promise harm to

George unless you give them the gems. You refuse to do so; but you are willing to stay out of sight and keep

Francine gave a determined smile. She would handle George. All that she needed was the hiding place.

In whispered tone, The Shadow gave an address. He extended a key; Francine took it, with the note. She saw

Francine gave a slight gasp as she relaxed. The thought struck her that all had been imagined; yet in her hand

she held the note and the key. Warily, Francine stepped into the bedroom and turned on the light. The room

From somewhere in the darkness of the roof below came the faint whisper of a weird, parting laugh. That

uncanny mirth produced an odd effect. It gave Francine a sense of reality. In the framed light of the window,

Francine Melrue was ready to follow every instruction that The Shadow had given. When new need came,

WHEN Hurden arrived in Reddingham's office the next day, he found Francine Melrue with the lawyer.

George was absent; Reddingham explained that the young man was ill. That was why Francine had come to

"Sorry about young Melrue," said Hurden. The dapper man pretended concern. "I wanted to invite him to the

house tonight. I'm giving a party there, I'd hoped you could come, too, Miss Melrue."

"It would have been impossible," returned Francine, icily. "I had other plans for tonight. As it happens, I have

Reddingham beamed when he heard that statement. The lawyer was pleased because Francine and George

were reconciled, He had expected it; for George's interest in selling the house was indication that the young

man was listening to Francine's advice. Perhaps George was settling down to a more sensible existence.

"Maybe you could come up to the house, Mr. Reddingham," persisted Hurden. "There'll be some real people

Reddingham hemmed an excuse. The dyspeptic old attorney did not like late hours. Hurden turned to another

Caudrey hesitated; then decided to accept the invitation. When Hurden had departed with the title deed to the

"You ended that fellow's persistence," said the girl. "He was determined that someone accept his invitation.

"Caudrey won't have to go there," declared Reddingham. "He simply chose a tactful way of avoiding an

Caudrey smiled as he reached for a sheet of figures. He was here to make a final balance of the estate's books.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "I shall call at the house, because I promised to do so. It will not be difficult

Francine left Reddingham's office; Caudrey departed soon afterward. On the way out, the plotting actuary

indulged in pleased thoughts. His acceptance of Hurden's invitation was part of a neat game.

It gave Caudrey sufficient excuse for a visit to the old mansion. Caudrey felt that he had put one over on

Francine had been the real test; for she was smart. Much smarter than her brother George, in Caudrey's

opinion. That judgment was more accurate than Caudrey realized. Francine had given proof of cleverness that

She had shown the faked threat note to George. That weakkneed chap had caved when he saw it. He had

wanted to hide somewhere, and Francine had told him of a place the little, secluded apartment that The

So anxious was George to get under cover that he had gladly accepted Francine's offer to visit Reddingham's

That was the sort of cooperation that The Shadow had expected from Francine. The sooner George was out of

THERE were servants in the old Melrue mansion, all that day. They were picked men, provided to make sure

that nothing went amiss. Like Hurden, they had no inkling of the mansion's secret. When evening arrived,

Hurden was a good stooge. He had many acquaintances who knew nothing of his underhand ways; and he

had managed to produce a prosperous banker and a wellknown Wall Street man among his guests.

When Marvin Bradthaw appeared, he did not seem out of place. His presence simply hoisted the estimate that

At nine o'clock, Bradthaw decided to leave. That started the others on their way; but an incident delayed

Bradthaw. Strampf arrived and asked to see Mr. Bradthaw. Strampf was carrying a portfolio under his arm.

"More business," smiled Bradthaw, with a shake of his head. "It pursues me everywhere. Sometimes I escape

"Those casualty reports, sir. You wanted them as soon as they were ready for you "

"I remember." Bradthaw turned to shake hands with the other guests. Then: "Very well, Strampf. I can look at

Hurden suggested that Bradthaw use the upstairs study for his chat with Strampf. Bradthaw accepted. Once in

"Good," expressed Strampf. His tone was eager. "That gives us time to discuss something that I learned from

The Shadow's files. Look at this data, Mr. Bradthaw. All about a blackray machine that puts electrical

Bradthaw's eyebrows lifted as he read the typed pages. They included the history of the device, telling how

"Crooks used it before," observed Bradthaw. "They can use it again. Just the thing for us to turn over to the

Strampf reached over to turn the pages that Bradthaw had. He pointed to carefully written notations on the

"The machine exists," stated the cadaverous man. "Those notes mention where it is stored. Also that Burbank

Strampf's tone was emphatic. It carried the tone that Bradthaw liked. The crime profiteer returned the papers.

"Hurden got rid of the rest of the guests," informed Caudrey. "All the fake servants are posted. When do we

THERE were tools in the study closet, left there at Strampf's order. Strampf and Caudrey began to hack at the

wall while Bradthaw watched them. They chipped the plaster beneath the heavy wallpaper.

Chopping with a short pick, Strampf dug deep into wooden laths. He hewed an opening; Caudrey hacked

Soon the lower portion of the wall was cleared away. While Strampf and Caudrey stood back, Bradthaw

flicked a flashlight's glow into the space. The light glimmered upon the metal chest. Caudrey and Strampf

hauled it from the hiding place. Each pulled a clamp; Bradthaw raised the cover.

The big disappointment was Caudrey's. He had sunk over ninety thousand dollars; all the money he

possessed. In return, he had an unsalable mansion. Bitterly, he remembered the Speculation Rider attached to

Bradthaw also remembered it. He was sorry that Caudrey had lost out on three million dollars, because three

hundred thousand would have come to Bradthaw, at premium payment. Three hundred thousand though was

small change, compared to the total that the crimeinsurance racket would eventually produce.

Smugly Bradthaw expressed regrets to Caudrey. The actuary stood numbed. His droopy eyelids were closed,

his hollow cheeks sucked deeper than ever. His lips were muttering wordless sounds.

Bradthaw's lips were hardened in contempt when the situation took a sudden change.

Strampf had crawled into the hole. His lean shoulder poked out again; his cadaverous face looked up. In his

Strampf halted as he caught a glare from Bradthaw. Instantly Caudrey came to life. His eyes popped open; his

"Then the policy stands!" Caudrey was almost hysterical. "I can collect my claim! Three million dollars!"

THE burden had transferred to Bradthaw. The crime profiteer was faced by the very problem that had

stunned Caudrey. But Bradthaw did not slump. He even repressed the oaths that he wanted to hurl at Strampf.

After all, Strampf was paid to get to the bottom of matters. That talent had proved itself a boomerang; but

"You shall collect your claim," Bradthaw told Caudrey. "Under the circumstances, however, we must insist

upon all provisions in the policy. There is one calling for thirty days' grace in settlement."

"Because the lost spoils could not be regained. That does not apply in this case. Someone still holds the funds

that belonged in this coffer. Incidentally, Caudrey, we must find that person and the funds to learn the

Bradthaw's impressive tone calmed Caudrey. The actuary was willing to accept the thirtyday decision.

Moreover he was anxious to retain Bradthaw's good favor since future payment hinged on it. Fearing that

Bradthaw might think that he had been doublecrossed, Caudrey hurriedly assured him that all had been fair.

Caudrey swore that he had spoken to no one regarding the hidden wealth. He had kept the fact from

Reddingham; that, in turn, had prevented George Melrue from learning it. In fact, added Caudrey, he had not

George had been in this house yesterday; but he had not even been in Reddingham's office today. Hurden had

"The answer is plain," declared the crime executive. "Young Melrue was familiar with this house. He guessed

"He tried to avoid selling it," analyzed Bradthaw. "He set an exorbitant price to discourage purchasers. When

Hurden showed willingness to buy at ninety thousand, George could not reject the offer. His urge for money

"But if he already had the three million, ninety thousand would have been small "

"He did not have the millions," interrupted Bradthaw in a final tone. "George filched the wealth last night.

The cellar was not properly guarded. That is how he managed it. A crude job with traces of its hurried

method. Today, George's nerve was gone. He knows that others wanted that wealth."

Strampf was listening intently to all that Bradthaw said. The insurance man's deductions brought a steady nod

from the cadaverous investigator. Even before Bradthaw had finished, Strampf was picking up the telephone

to send orders to finger men and thuggish crews. Instructions given, the group in the study waited.

Word came back. George Melrue was not at his hotel. He had checked out that morning. There was no trace

Strampf ordered his informants to search for traces of the missing Melrues. Hanging up the telephone

Bradthaw's nod was one of confidence. He could depend upon Strampf to locate that pair of amateur

treasureseekers. It seemed obvious that George had delegated his sister to arrange the house sale; then join

Neither Bradthaw nor Strampf looked beyond the obvious. Clever though they were, they could accept no

more than the surface facts. With The Shadow supposedly dead, they had no reason to look for a deeplaid

The crimemaster and his star mercenary had taken the same bait from The Shadow's hook.

TWO days had passed. It was night again; the time when The Shadow could ordinarily move on secret

missions. Circumstances, however, were no longer usual with The Shadow. His own chosen policy kept him

Two nights ago, crooks had entered the storage house where The Shadow had placed the blackray machine.

Newspapers had told of a trifling burglary there. The Shadow knew that the equipment was gone; that it

would eventually reach Burbank. So far, however, there had been no pickup by the directionfinders.

The answer was that Strampf was too busy searching for the Melrue heirs to bother with the special machine.

The delivery of the device had been delayed somewhere along the line, awaiting further orders from Strampf.

There were times when The Shadow regretted his present policy. He had adopted his waiting tactics,

confident that such a course would insure the safety of his agents. Thinking The Shadow dead, crooks would

fear nothing from the agents; and should therefore keep them prisoners for future use.

But the absence of contact was ominous, even to The Shadow. It could mean that something had happened to

His choice once made, The Shadow could not alter it. He kept to a hideout, in the basement of a small

apartment house. The Melrues occupied an upstairs apartment; while in his present location, The Shadow

This evening, a scene occurred that would have pleased The Shadow, had he been there to view it. It

happened in Bradthaw's office. For reasons of his own, the insurance magnate had employees working

"I have sent feelers everywhere," declared Strampf, in his harsh, mechanized tone. "Not one of my searchers

has picked up a trace of the Melrues. I cannot understand how they managed such a complete disappearance!"

Bradthaw stroked his chin. His eyes took on a distant glint. The mastercrook could provide answers to

questions that puzzled Strampf, whose work was purely that of fitting established facts.

"The Melrues must have made their plans in advance," decided Bradthaw. "Their present hiding place was

In a sense, Bradthaw had the right answer. The Melrues were certainly well tucked away, in a place that had

awaited them. It did not occur to Bradthaw that The Shadow had picked the hiding spot. Each passing day

"I can only wait," declared Strampf. "Until some of my searchers bring in clues, my own work is halted."

"That will give you time to complete other matters," observed Bradthaw. "For instance, that blackray

WITH that order, Marvin Bradthaw provided the very break that The Shadow wanted.

Shortly before midnight, the blackray machine was delivered at the house where The Shadow's agents were

During the past few days, The Shadow's agents had gained no inkling of their whereabouts. They knew only

that they were quartered in the basement of an old house, somewhere in Manhattan. Those who had been

conscious after capture remembered that the trip had not been a long one, although they had been unable to

The quarters were comfortable, but formidable. The agents spent daytime hours in a little living room, at

Any chance for a break was impossible. The prisoners were under the personal supervision of a crook called

At night, a squad occupied the living room, while the prisoners slept. Watchful eyes were always on the

The prisoners had not seen Strampf since he had first interviewed them, hence they scented something

important when the cadaverous man made his new visit. Some of the guards lugged in a halfopened crate

Burbank and others of the agents recognized the device that Strampf began to assemble. It was The Shadow's

portable blackray machine. Sight of that apparatus made the prisoners morose. For the first time, they began

The machine was wheeled into Burbank's room. In harsh tone, Strampf ordered the contact man to make it

Strampf began to pass the time by quizzing the other agents. He wanted facts regarding The Shadow's past;

and Strampf showed that he was very well informed on a great many of The Shadow's methods.

Fortunately, the agents were able to parry his questions. They, themselves, knew but little regarding The

Shadow, other than the facts that Strampf mentioned. Since Strampf had those details, the prisoners admitted

WORKING alone on the blackray machine, Burbank had his back to the living room. He could hear

Strampf's rasped questions; and Burbank sensed that they had taken an insidious tone. If the prisoners

continued to show themselves of no value it would not be long before Strampf recommended that they be

Burbank wanted to stall with the intricate machine; but he began to think of another plan. Perhaps if he got it

working, the prisoners would have a better chance. Burbank hated to see the apparatus get into criminal

hands; but he felt sure that he could fix it so it would keep going out of order.

So he calmly hooked up wires and adjusted portions of mechanism, until he struck two features that puzzled

Certain essential parts were missing, yet they had all been there when the machine was stowed away, for

Burbank himself had dismantled it. The Shadow would have had no cause to remove them; for he had put the

packed device in an obscure storehouse, where no one would have occasion to meddle.

Standing back to study the machine, Burbank made his second discovery. The thick base of the machine was

equipped with two knobs, ready for electric wires. Those posts did not belong there. Only The Shadow could

Burbank instantly saw the reason. The base was hollow. It could contain compact equipment for sending a

Burbank connected the posts. With that move, he put the beam in action. After a few minutes, he did more.

Burbank fingered the wire; every time he loosened it he interrupted the beam. Burbank made those spaces

into dots and dashes of a special code. He was sending a message to the persons who handled the

Burbank detailed the interior arrangements at this prison. He added snatches of conversation that he heard

from the other room. Most important, was an ultimatum that Strampf delivered. The lean man spoke it to the

"You don't know much," sneered Strampf. "Maybe there is a way to jog your memories. I'll give you until

tomorrow night at nine. If you won't talk by that time, you will be dead! Like The Shadow!"

Ace Gandley, listening, showed a leer of anticipation. The job would be one for his machinegunners. He

could picture the prisoners lined up against the wall, withering under the rattling fire. After that, a blast would

Toying with the wire, Burbank transcribed the news. He set nine o'clock as the absolute dead line.

Burbank was completing the message when Strampf came into the little room. Coolly Burbank kept up his

BURBANK had chosen the best policy. Any quick move would have aroused Strampf's suspicion. The very

Burbank finished the message, gave the wire a few careful adjustments to announce that he was signing off.

"Some parts are missing," declared Burbank. "The machine won't work without them."

"You're stalling like the others," returned Strampf. "I see the game! You hid some of the parts!"

Burbank denied it. Angrily Strampf called in Ace and another guard. He told the pair to frisk Burbank and

search the room. They did. They pummeled through the mattresses of the twodecker bed that belonged to

Strampf glared at Burbank who shrugged his shoulders. Pointing a bony finger at the ray machine, Strampf

"I can't!" Burbank's tone was frank. "I need those parts. Since you haven't found them, I can prove what I say.

Burbank took paper and pencil. He drew a complicated diagram for Strampf's benefit. Burbank marked two

"If I had those," he insisted, "the machine would work. Here! I'll give you the exact details and dimensions.

Burbank knew that Strampf's statement was a wide one. It would be a few days before the special parts could

Still, Burbank was confident that it would not matter. He was sure that the prisoners could expect The

SOON afterward, a telephone jangled in an empty apartment close to The Shadow's temporary headquarters.

In his cramped abode, The Shadow heard the tingle. That unanswered call was the signal that he awaited.

He paused outside the building to look up to the windows of the apartment that the Melrues occupied. All

was well there. Skirting the apartment house, The Shadow made sure that no prowlers were about.

Choosing a circuitous course that avoided welllighted streets, The Shadow arrived at Farrow's.

He found Farrow with a map spread on the table. It showed Manhattan Island in large scale. Farrow had

marked two spots: his own apartment and the office where Doctor Sayre was located. From each he had

"Sayre called," reported Farrow. "He gave me his line from the directionfinder. The common point must be

midway in the East Side block. There was something else a message in Burbank's usual code. I picked up

most of it; Sayre supplied the rest in dots and dashes, though he did not know their translation."

With that Farrow passed The Shadow a decoded copy of Burbank's message. The Shadow read the details. In

whispered tone, he told Farrow to call Sayre and arrange shifts so that one would always be on duty. Burbank

The Shadow was gone when Farrow had finished his telephone call to Sayre. Amid the blanket of the outside

Strampf's feelers were about. Those everpresent finger men were continuing their fruitless search for the

Melrues. One glimpse of The Shadow would have given any of those spies important news for Strampf.

None gained that glimpse. The course that The Shadow took was one of utter invisibility.

The Shadow had learned crime's ultimatum. Tomorrow would end his waiting game. Before nine tomorrow

night, the cloaked foe of crime would make his reappearance from the dead. Then would begin the swift, hard

Those future moves would be bold and dangerous. Deep plans were needed to make them effective. One false

step could bring death to the captured agents, disaster to the Melrues, doom to The Shadow himself.

Tomorrow was a balance scale, gripped in the hand of Fate. Which way the weight would swing was a matter

SHORTLY after dawn, George Melrue awoke with a headache. Despite promises he had made to Francine,

George was still drinking rather heavily, on the excuse that it was the only thing he could do to pass the time

The window shade was flapping. George crawled from the bed to close the window. He looked to a courtyard

below the apartmenthouse wall; there, he gained a blurred impression of motion. He thought that he saw a

It suddenly struck George that it was poor policy to gawk from an open window. He started back toward his

bed. He stopped when he saw a streak of light beneath the door that connected with the living room.

George donned slippers and dressing gown; he wondered why Francine had risen so early.

The girl had evidently come from her bedroom quite a while before; for George found her seated at a table,

finishing a letter. Francine was attired in a gay kimono; but her expression was serious. She seemed to be

"What's the idea, sis?" demanded George. "I thought we were supposed to be keeping out of sight. Here I find

At first, George offered none. Then, as Francine finished the letter and began to fold it, her brother argued:

"Sure, I've got an objection! First you insist that we sneak out of sight, without even mentioning it to

"It's dangerous, sis" George's tone became a plaintive whine "and I don't like it! If we'd talked to

Reddingham in the first place, it might have been all right; but you were afraid to do that "

"Read it," she suggested. "It explains matters. If you have any questions, you will find me in the kitchenette

George read the letter. He was rubbing his eyes before he had finished the first three lines. From that point

on, his mouth was open in amazement. The letter stated facts that almost stunned him. Its contents were as

Carrying the letter, George popped into the kitchenette, wearing a dumbfounded expression. He stammered

questions; and Francine calmly answered them. She told her brother of her two meetings with The Shadow

"Then we've been duped!" expressed George. "You were fool enough to believe the fellow, Francine. The

Francine pulled open a cupboard drawer. George blinked. He was looking at stacked bundles of bank notes,

"If The Shadow chose to dupe us, George," said the girl, "he would scarcely have placed three million dollars

George's tone was breathless. He pawed through the wealth; made an estimate of its amount. Francine was

"We'd better get away," panted George. "Go somewhere else take the money with us put it in good

George halted under Francine's contemptuous gaze. He saw a thrust of the girl's chin; knew what was in her

"I guess I'm a cad," he admitted. "Thinking of our own safety and not caring what's happened to this chap

George's penitent mood showed that he would follow any plan that Francine offered. The girl put the letter in

an envelope, sealed and addressed it. While she was affixing a stamp, she told her brother:

"I'm calling up the corner store for some groceries. I can tell the delivery boy to mail this letter. It will reach

AT four that afternoon, the letter reached Reddingham's; but it was not delivered to the attorney.

Reddingham's secretary was ill; a smug substitute was working in his place. When that man saw the

Immediately afterward, the substitute secretary found an excuse to leave the office. He took the letter with

Shortly before five o'clock, Strampf was ushered into Bradthaw's office. With a dry smile, the cadaverous

investigator handed the letter to the mastercrook. Strampf commented that the letter had been intercepted at

Bradthaw's eyes became steely as they read the letter. The grayhaired executive took only a few minutes to

"The Shadow was far ahead of us," decided Bradthaw. "He must have known too much about the Melrues, at

the time when he blocked the jewel theft. It was The Shadow who took Caudrey's three million, before we

even thought of the Xray photographs. He talked to the girl, knowing that she had nerve.

"The Melrues went through with the house sale just to bluff us. Afterward, they had to take to cover. By that

time George had become worried. Francine took charge of everything. It is now her turn to be troubled."

"Because they have not heard from The Shadow. They do not know that The Shadow is dead. Tomorrow, we

"Too crude, Strampf," objected the crooked executive. "They might call Reddingham before they approached

the office. Learning that he never received the letter, Francine would foresee danger. There is a better way to

Leaning across the desk, Bradthaw brought his fist down with a triumphant thump, as he announced:

STRAMPF'S tiny eyes blinked before he caught the idea. Bradthaw waited; he could almost picture the

"It can be arranged," he stated, crisply. "A false message from WNX. One that the Melrues will accept as

"We must bring them here," declared Bradthaw. "Safely, without the slightest semblance of danger. I shall be

the man whom The Shadow has appointed as custodian of the three million dollars."

Bradthaw's plan was perfect. His own reputation was undisputed. The Melrues would recognize his name, his

standing as a big man in the insurance world. They would not hesitate at placing the three million dollars in

"They will tell me everything," chuckled Bradthaw. "That will enable us to cover every detail. If we learn that

the Melrues have spoken to no one other than The Shadow, we can eliminate them promptly. Their

"If they have mentioned their secret to certain friends, we can act accordingly. In that case, we shall keep the

Melrues under cover until we have dealt with those other parties. Merely a precaution, Strampf."

"A wise precaution," he agreed, "and therefore necessary. Whatever happens to the Melrues afterward, will

never be blamed upon you, Mr. Bradthaw. However, I anticipate no complications. It is probable that the

"And The Shadow," added Bradthaw, "would have spoken only to his agents. The Shadow is dead. As soon

as the Melrues are on their way here, we shall eliminate The Shadow's agents also."

"Burbank excepted. Until he has put that blackray machine in operation. Afterward, death for Burbank!"

BRADTHAW had settled the question of The Shadow's agents. The verdict pleased Strampf. He would not

have to keep further tabs on the prisoners. Ace Gandley's outfit would no longer be required.

Strampf had already set nine o'clock as the dead line, in case The Shadow's agents were to be eliminated.

At eight o'clock, the message would go from WNX. If the Melrues responded promptly, they would

automatically sign the death warrant for five of the six prisoners who had once served as The Shadow's

Burbank's message to The Shadow had called for aid before nine o'clock tonight. Events had shaped to

By nine tonight, rescue might prove impossible. Death was scheduled to reach the prisoners before The

EARLY evening found The Shadow's agents tense, even though they did not show it. A clock in their living

room marked the approach of eight. One hour more would mark the limit that Strampf had given them.

All of the prisoners knew of Burbank's message to The Shadow. Burbank had passed the word along, by a

silent eyecode that all the agents understood. Glances, with simple shifts of gaze, enabled them to spell out

Ace Gandley's thugs were keeping close watch tonight. Each bedroom held a brace of armed men; others

were watching from the main door that led into the living room. In effect, the prisoners were surrounded by a

They knew, too, that Ace had henchmen upstairs, with lookouts posted outside the house. Nevertheless, the

prisoners felt confidence in The Shadow's ability to enter anywhere. In their mind, the future was settled.

The Shadow knew that Strampf was due at nine o'clock. The agents could picture their chief awaiting the

As minutes ticked toward eight o'clock, an unexpected change took place. Ace Gandley came into the room.

Ace was a burly ruffian whose grin added to the natural ugliness of his face. His eyes carried a mean glint as

Burbank had to comply. He did not like it, for he preferred to be with the other prisoners when Strampf

arrived. Ace's order predicted unforeseen complications, especially when the uglyfaced leader added a

"Drag out that machine," Ace told them. "Bring it along after you've locked up the little rooms."

Ace took Burbank through the main door. They followed a narrow passage to a room that served as Ace's

Burbank noted a telephone in the corner; also a long, flat box with a padlock. He saw a large masterswitch

"Sit down," growled Ace. Then, to the man at the radio: "All right, Kelvey. Tune in on WNX."

ACE watched Burbank. The contact man remained impassive, but he sensed the ominous. Burbank could

There was a crackle of static. WNX was on the air. Chimes registered eight o'clock. A purred voice followed,

"It is unwise to leave important matters to the future. Act immediately. Insurance will meet your problems. It

The voice purred on, but it no longer emphasized words. The message was given, and Burbank had heard it.

So had Ace. The ugly crook was grinning at the concern shown by The Shadow's agent.

Burbank could not take his eyes from the radio. His fixed gaze told that he understood.

Such was the message; and it could not be from The Shadow. Someone had placed a new announcer at WNX,

to send a false message. Unquestionably, that message was for persons whom The Shadow intended to

Ace offered Burbank no further explanation regarding the message itself. As a matter of fact, Ace did not

know the full details. Marvin Bradthaw had swung the deal. He had arranged with WNX to take over a

Bradthaw had managed it easily. He had previously used radio as a booster for insurance sales. WNX had

gladly accepted him as a commercial backer for a regular program. The introduction of a new announcer was

ELSEWHERE, listeners had heard that message. In their hidden apartment, George and Francine made haste

to answer the longawaited call. They packed their three million dollars in a suitcase and hurriedly put on

The trip was a short one. When they alighted from the cab, the Melrues decided to wait at the neatest corner,

where anyone looking for them would recognize them immediately. Their wait was less than three minutes.

George was not sure that Caudrey was the friend whom the message meant, until the droopy actuary

"Reddingham received your letter. Right after that, he heard from some mysterious party who had made

arrangements for tonight. What it's all about, I don't know; but Reddingham asked me to meet you."

Caudrey's tone was frank. It fooled George effectively. Francine's details had not included the names of

criminals who sought the three million dollars. Hurden, of course, was linked; but George knew nothing of

It looked as though Caudrey had been deputed as a reliable person by both The Shadow and Reddingham.

"We're going to see a big insurance man named Marvin Bradthaw," explained the actuary. "Whatever your

Caudrey was watching both his companions as he spoke. If either of the Melrues had shown distrust, Caudrey

Thugs were close at hand, ready to spring to action if needed. The cab was away from the corner, in a spot

where smart trigger men could board it instantly and subdue the occupants without fuss. The driver, too, was

It happened, however, that both George and Francine took Caudrey at his word. The actuary closed the cab

Watchers slid away to put in a telephone call. The news would reach Strampf long before the Melrues

Within fifteen minutes after the false message had been broadcast from WNX, the Melrues were within the

First, Ace Gandley had introduced an underworld brother named Kelvey as the fellow who had imitated

Burbank's voice to fool The Shadow's agents. With a grin Kelvey put on his act for Burbank's benefit.

"This is Kelvey," he spoke. Then in methodical fashion, he added: "Burbank speaking."

"Pretty neat huh?" gloated Ace, to Burbank. "Maybe I ought to send Kelvey in to pull it on those other lugs.

"You think I'm waiting until Strampf shows up at nine o'clock! You got another guess. That's been switched!

All Strampf's waiting for, is word that the radio stuff worked. When he gets that, he'll call here. We'll be set!"

Two of Ace's thugs were bringing out the blackray machine. They had dismantled it; Burbank saw them

stack the parts in the crate. The pair opened a long padlocked box. From it they produced three submachine

"We're doing it right," informed Ace. "We're going to spray those pals of yours! When that's done, we pull

"You're lucky, Burbank. Strampf needs you to work on that machine. That's why you're going along with us.

The importance of the next few minutes loomed upon Burbank. Desperately, he sought some way to aid his

fellow agents. For the first time Burbank was ready to believe that The Shadow had been eliminated, as

Despite his desire for mad action, Burbank retained his methodical manner. He looked across the room;

calmly arose from his chair and started in the direction of the crate that held the ray machine.

"What's the idea?" snarled Ace roughly. He sprang across to grab at Burbank's shoulders. "Who told you to

"You said that Strampf wants me to fix it," returned Burbank. "It will be ruined, the way these men of yours

packed it. Since my life depends upon it. I naturally want to keep the machine in good shape."

BURBANK started to remove portions of the apparatus from the crate. He reached the base and began to

untangle its wires. A moment more and Burbank would have had them connected to send a message by the

Burbank had worked a message under Strampf's nose. He could fool Ace as easily. Unfortunately, the

necessity of unpacking some of the apparatus had put another idea into Ace's head. The mobleader guessed

"I get it," jeered Ace. "You're trying to stall things so we can't rub out your pals as soon as Kelvey gets that

Roughly, Ace hauled Burbank from the crate and shoved him back to his chair. As Burbank sprawled, he

could see the loose wires dangling from the side of the crate. He had not even managed to hook up the

Kelvey was at the telephone. Murderous men were ready with their machine guns. All that was needed was

Strampf's call, plus Ace's order. One would bring the other; and both were due at any minute.

Quarter past eight. As Burbank figured it, there would be fifteen minutes more before The Shadow arrived

outside to stay on watch for Strampf. If The Shadow could come and did arrive, the most that he could

Through Burbank's brain flashed sounds of the future. He could picture the drill of machine guns; a titanic

IN his hopeless picture of the future, Burbank had also visualized the outside darkness that surrounded the

prison house. Silent, vacant darkness as Burbank imagined it. Gloom that covered Ace Gandley's lurking

That picture was half right. The darkness was silent; but it was not vacant. Figures were creeping close to the

The front door of the house offered poor approach, for there was a street lamp opposite it. There was a side

door, however, that could be reached by a short passage from the street. That door was well sheltered by

The back door, opening into a rear space behind the buildings on the next street, was completely darkened.

At the side door, close against the darkened barrier, a cloaked figure was at work. Blackgloved fingers were

handling a tiny probe in expert, noiseless fashion. The Shadow had arrived ahead of schedule. He had been in

The back door was also yielding to an expert worker. The Shadow had brought along an aid to handle the

second route. The man at the back was Tapper, whom The Shadow had mentioned when talking with Slade

When it came to getting into places that served as strongholds of crime, Tapper recognized only one superior:

This task, however, involved more than the act of entry. As The Shadow's probing pick released the lock,

there was a sound from the wall beside the door. One of Ace's lookouts was making his inspection. The

fellow had approached with stealth. As The Shadow turned, a flashlight glimmered.

For a half second, the guard saw The Shadow. Then, a gloved hand clamped over the lighted end of the

flashlight. The lookout tried to spring away in the darkness, whipping out a revolver as he shifted. The

Shadow's other arm was already on its way. A gloved fist sledged a heavy automatic straight to the lookout's

The Shadow hoisted the thug's limp body. Carrying the lookout into the house, The Shadow silently locked

TAPPER, meanwhile, was making progress with the rear door. His work was good, but Tapper was slower

than The Shadow and, occasionally, he gave betraying clicks. Those sounds were heard.

A stealthy lookout paused near a rear corner of the house. Holding a flashlight behind him, he blinked it. A

Together, the pair sneaked up to the rear door. Tapper did not hear them. The crooks waited until he released

the lock, a matter of only a dozen seconds. One nudged the other; their flashlights came on. Tapper swung

Staring, Tapper raised his arms. He was looking at his captors; as he did, he saw a mammoth figure rise

above their shoulders. Two huge hands swept inward, to take the necks of the crooks. Powerful arms did the

rest. Their sweep never stopped as the hamlike hands clacked two heads hard together.

Tapper saw the two lookouts slump to the ground. Their revolvers clattered with their flashlights. One torch

The glow showed the face of Tapper's helper, it was that of a giant African, who displayed a wide, pleased

The man was Jericho, whose gigantic strength had made him useful in the past. Like Tapper, Jericho was a

reserve worker of The Shadow; his name had not been learned by Strampf. Together, Tapper and Jericho

made a combination that could accomplish certain tasks that The Shadow performed alone.

Inside the house, the pair met The Shadow. The cloaked invader chose the route he wanted.

IN the basement, Burbank was waiting glumly for the doom that he thought was due. His eyes were upon

Ace was standing close by, but he was looking through the passage toward the room that held The Shadow's

Doors were open. There, beyond the muzzles of aimed machine guns, the doomed prisoners stood in line.

Burbank lunged from his chair. He hit Kelvey as the man reached for the telephone. Burbank was determined

Ace heard the clatter and wheeled about with a snarl. He saw Burbank pounding Kelvey. Ace aimed.

One bullet would settle Burbank. Strampf could get someone else to fix the ray machine. Ace's main job was

murder; he wasn't going to have it delayed by a lug who thought he was too important to be killed. That was

Something stopped Ace's shot. It was a sound that rose strident above the loud ringing of the telephone bell.

That token was a mocking laugh that Ace Gandley had never expected to hear again. Ace wheeled to the far

Ace blinked as though he had seen a ghost. That, however, did not stop his move. Dead or alive, ghost or

human, The Shadow was crime's greatest foe. Ace jabbed his gun muzzle toward The Shadow and yanked

Two guns spoke together. One was Ace's swinging revolver; the other, an automatic that loomed from The

Shadow's fist. Muzzles spat flame; two bullets found instant lodgment; but those resting places differed.

Ace's shot was hasty. Its slug carved deep into the woodwork beside The Shadow's shoulder. The Shadow's

CROOKS in the passage saw Ace fall. They turned, as they heard the challenge of The Shadow's laugh. To

others, that strident mockery was a battlecry. From the wall of the inner room, five agents of The Shadow

They were battling for the machine guns before killers had a chance to use those weapons. Crooks whipped

out revolvers; the fighting agents grappled for them. In the midst of the instant fray, The Shadow came

Tapper saw Burbank struggling with Kelvey. He jumped to Burbank's aid. Kelvey was trying to pull a

revolver. Tapper settled that with one of his own. A neat crack to Kelvey's skull put the fellow out of

Coming to his feet, Burbank grabbed for the telephone. It was his turn to provide an imitation. In raspy voice,

"All is ready!" The words came in the harsh voice of Strampf. "Give the order to Ace!"

Burbank had clamped his hand over the mouthpiece. He lifted it slightly, so Strampf could hear him rasp:

For a few seconds more, Burbank kept the mouthpiece covered. Shots were starting in the inner room. As the

barrage increased, Burbank lifted his hand entirely. Across the wire went the sounds of intermittent gunfire,

"Hear it?" questioned Burbank across the wire. "Ace gave it! We're ready to lam!"

AS Burbank hung up the receiver, a procession came through from the prison room. That parade showed how

the battle had finished. There had been six thugs in the death squad. All had fared badly.

One unscathed thug came first, his hands upraised. Behind him were Harry and Cliff each poking him with a

Jericho had charge of them. He had each crippled rowdy by the coat collar and was supporting them so they

Clyde Burke came out between Rutledge Mann and Moe Shrevnitz. Clyde was grinning while he clutched a

wounded shoulder. He was the only one of The Shadow's followers who had taken a chance bullet while

Last was The Shadow. No others followed. Three of Ace's murderous mob were lying dead in the prison

Methodically Burbank told how he had handled Strampf's telephone call. He pointed out the switch that

controlled the lights. Burbank suspected that it had a double purpose. The Shadow agreed.

The cloaked victor sent his agents ahead with the prisoners, including Kelvey who had recovered from

Tapper's slug on the head. The Shadow retained Hawkeye so that he and Burbank could carry the crate that

When they had gone, The Shadow waited in the room that had once been Ace Gandley's headquarters.

When all had gained time to reach the outside doors, The Shadow pulled the switch. Blackness followed;

using a flashlight, The Shadow went up the stairs. Through the back door, he chose the path to the rear street.

From the front street came the muffled thunder of a deepplaced explosion. It was followed by a prolonged

clatter, as the old house tumbled into ruins. Burbank was right; that light switch was set to touch off a timed

Crooks had intended that blast to cover up new evidence of death. The explosion had served its purpose.

Bulletriddled bodies lay beneath the ruins; but they were not the ones that Bradthaw and Strampf had

Ace Gandley and three of his thuggish crew had gone to the grave intended for The Shadow's agents.

THE explosion at the old house was the final touch of The Shadow's strategy. News of that blast traveled far

There, the insurance magnate was seated at his desk, while Strampf handled the dials of a big radio set. They

were listening to police calls. Within three minutes after the explosion, the plotters heard the orders that went

Bradthaw gave a nod. Strampf turned off the radio and came to the desk. He listened to Bradthaw's comment.

"Kelvey answered your telephone call," chuckled the criminal executive. "You heard the machine gun over

the wire. The news of the explosion was all we needed. We are ready to deal with the Melrues when they

"They will suspect nothing," he declared. "Nor will anyone else. I dismissed the office staff before eight

o'clock. I stayed here presumably to hear the WNX broadcast and judge its commercial merits."

"It is unnecessary to have watchers outside this building. That was why I told you to bring none. Of course,

we require the fake elevator man that you provided. He will obligingly forget that the Melrue heirs came up

"That means," remarked Strampf, "that we shall take them down in the service elevator ourselves."

The conversation ended. From somewhere outside the office came the muffled thump of an elevator door. It

"Remember one thing," cautioned Bradthaw, leaning toward Strampf. "We must learn all that these people

Bradthaw came to his feet to greet Caudrey. He smiled when the actuary introduced George and Francine.

BRADTHAW'S smile appeared to be one of welcome. Its real inspiration was his sight of the suitcase that

After shaking hands with the visitors, Bradthaw explained matters in his convincing basso. His story was

As Bradthaw put it, he had heard from The Shadow. He was to assume custody of the three million dollars,

"In a sense," purred Bradthaw, "the funds will be insured. We shall take care of them and shall also arrange

To Strampf and Caudrey, that smug statement had a double meaning. The funds were insured; but Caudrey

was the person who held the claim. As for the departure of the Melrues, that was to have a rapid sequel.

"There is just one point," remarked Bradthaw. "In undertaking custody of these funds, I must be sure that you

"Only Francine talked to him," added George. "Since you are working with him, Mr. Bradthaw we are quite

"Wait!" Francine's tone was firm. "We trust you, Mr. Bradthaw, but there is one thing that puzzles us. We

George started to disagree with his sister. Bradthaw smilingly stopped George's objection.

"Of course," agreed the mastercrook. "It simply happens that The Shadow was detained."

"By other business," replied Bradthaw. "That is why he left the matter entirely in my hands. I know what is in

your mind, Miss Melrue. You fear that some impostor represented himself as The Shadow, in order to

"Yes," said Francine, firmly. "I feel that we should have sufficient proof of your connection with The

OBLIGINGLY, Bradthaw arose from his desk. He ushered the others out through the door that led to the

There, Bradthaw pressed a switch that controlled the ceiling light. Francine and George stared at the

"The Shadow's own headquarters," expressed Bradthaw in a hushed tone. "Something that he allows few

persons to see. I felt that you like Caudrey and Strampf were among the privileged."

"Of course!" replied the smoothtoned crook. "That is how he happened to become interested in your case. It

began with the attempted theft of Miss Melrue's gems. You see" Bradthaw turned to Francine "The

"He mentioned that," admitted Francine, "but I did not know exactly why he was interested."

"Because you had insured the jewels," smiled Bradthaw. "I shall divulge a secret. The Shadow is in the

"Which we control. That explains everything Miss Melrue. Here is my receipt for three million dollars. Let us

George handed over the bag when Francine took the receipt. Bradthaw told Strampf and Caudrey to stack the

funds on The Shadow's table. They counted the amount. It came to more than three million.

"That calls for a correction on the receipt," remarked Bradthaw. "Let me have the paper, Miss Melrue."

Francine opened her purse and looked for the paper. She had trouble finding it. Bradthaw looked on

indulgently. He had no suspicion of what was due. Francine's hand popped suddenly into view.

Instead of the receipt, the girl produced a gun. She pointed the small caliber revolver straight for Bradthaw. In

"Raise your hands, Mr. Bradthaw! Don't make a move! That applies to your fellow criminals. One move from

FRANCINE'S threat carried real weight. Bradthaw knew how valiantly the girl had battled crooks at her

The moment that they rose, Strampf and Caudrey were left powerless. They depended entirely upon

Despite his startlement, Bradthaw was crafty. He actually smiled as he faced the muzzle of Francine's gun.

"You are making a terrible mistake!" reasoned the criminal insurance official as convincing as ever. "It is

dangerous to draw a gun without provocation. You are nervous, Miss Melrue. If your finger should tighten on

"Which is what you deserve," Francine told him. "Stand where you are! You are more than a thief. You are a

"The crime of murder will be yours," he declared. "This is a grave mistake, Miss Melrue. I advise you to put

away that gun. I am sorry that I am not close enough to take it from you. If only I had the opportunity "

As he spoke Bradthaw looked toward George Melrue. The young man caught the significance of the

statement that failed to impress Francine. George was close enough; with a quick grab, he seized his sister's

Francine gave a startled gasp. She tried to shout a warning; but Bradthaw was upon her, silencing her cry

Before George could understand, Strampf and Caudrey reached him. Strampf snatched Francine's gun from

Five seconds later, the heirs were helpless. Strampf had Francine covered. George was facing the muzzle of

Caudrey's revolver. Standing back, Bradthaw surveyed the prisoners. His expression was no longer genial,

"You have guessed too much! So I shall tell you more. I am the man who sought your wealth, because I

insured it for Caudrey! It goes to him; not to you! I have saved myself a payment of three million dollars;

With that statement, Bradthaw's lips took on an insidious smile. To emphasize his declaration, he added:

"As for The Shadow, he is dead! He died before you ever went to the hiding place that he provided for you.

Evil triumph marked the finish of Bradthaw's sentence. Blackcurtained walls carried the echo of those

Marvin Bradthaw liked that echo. He took it as an excellent omen to accompany his decree of doom.

DESPITE the menace that confronted her, Francine Melrue showed no terror. Bravely, the girl met

Bradthaw's evil gaze; her chin showed its old determination. Turning away, Francine saw George, hopeless

"Don't worry, George," pleaded the girl. "It was my fault. I was too hasty, that was all."

"If you had only told me more, sis," interjected George, "perhaps I would have understood. I thought that The

George hesitated. But in his words, Francine caught the very inference she wanted. For once, George was

Francine's statement caught Bradthaw's attention. He looked to George for the answer. Francine smiled as she

"I thought The Shadow was still alive. Perhaps that's something that might hit you, Bradthaw. Maybe you'd

"You think that you can trick me!" he scoffed. "You tell me that The Shadow still lives "

Francine gave that utterance. It stopped Bradthaw short. Deliberately, Francine continued her statement.

"I saw The Shadow shortly before my last visit to Reddingham's office," declared the girl. "That is why I

went there alone to complete the sale. George knew that there was danger, because I had told him. That is

Strampf suddenly injected himself into the conversation. He eyed Francine over the top of his revolver; then

"The girl lies!" announced Strampf. "The Shadow is dead. She is trying to bluff us."

Strampf's mania for accuracy made it impossible for him to reject any supposition that he had once accepted

as a fact. The man's brain worked along grooves. Bradthaw's thoughts were different. The mastercrook was

"I shall handle this, Strampf," returned Bradthaw. Then to Francine: "Since The Shadow still lives, why did

There was a ring of irony in Bradthaw's tone. It did not faze Francine. The girl's reply was crisp.

"The Shadow never failed us," declared Francine. "He remained on constant guard near our hiding place. I

saw him on several occasions; the last time was early this morning. Before I wrote the letter to Mr.

THIS time Bradthaw saw more than the intensive expression that Francine wore. The supercrook observed

George was remembering his morning glimpse into the courtyard where a blackened shape had so

Francine's lips took on a smile. The girl was more confident than ever. Bradthaw suddenly understood the

reason. His fists clenched; for the first time he showed excitement. Savagely, he expressed himself to Strampf

"The Shadow dictated that letter!" exclaimed Bradthaw. "He ordered Francine to send it to Reddingham to

trick us! Don't you see his game? He wanted us concentrated here while he went to rescue his agents! He

"The Shadow gave us bait that idea of a message from WNX. So we would bring these people here"

Bradthaw gestured toward Francine and George "and lay our cards on the table. We thought The Shadow

dead: he kept up the pretense, to deceive us. The Shadow may arrive here at any moment!"

The words jolted Strampf and Caudrey. They saw the smile that Francine still retained. They heard the girl's

"The Shadow is already here," declared Francine. "He told me the interval that he would require. I assured

him that I could delay events that long. The Shadow is waiting" Francine turned to point to the entrance

INSTINCTIVELY, Strampf and Caudrey aimed their weapons in the direction that Francine pointed.

Bradthaw looked toward the door; suddenly he wheeled full about, reaching for a gun of his own. He had

It was lucky for Bradthaw that he swung at that instant. A weird laugh filled the sanctum, a mocking tone that

belonged within those shrouding walls. Black curtains hollowed the mirth; made its exact location a mystery.

To Strampf and Caudrey, the taunt seemed all about them. It left them bewildered, staring at the outer door.

The cloaked invader had entered his captured sanctum through the window that he had used before.

Francine's demand for proof regarding The Shadow was a ruse that had worked, exactly as The Shadow

wanted it. Keenly, The Shadow had foreseen that Bradthaw would take his conference upstairs to the

That had left the insurance magnate's office clear for The Shadow to enter. From Bradthaw's window the

cloaked avenger had scaled to the tower room. Behind his own curtains, The Shadow had witnessed the finish

Francine had displayed all the skill that The Shadow expected, even to the ruse of diverting attention to the

outer door. Strampf and Caudrey were totally off guard, no longer covering the prisoners.

Even Bradthaw's quick recovery did not give him an advantage against The Shadow. Bradthaw was faced by

the muzzle of an automatic. To aim with his own gun would mean death. Nevertheless, Bradthaw raised the

While Francine was making a quick dash for a secure corner of the room, George made the worst move

possible. Stampeded by sudden fear for The Shadow's safety, he hurled himself upon Bradthaw, hoping to

It was the very break that Bradthaw wanted. The grayhaired crook whipped George in front of him as a

Strampf and Caudrey heard their chief's triumphant shout and wheeled around to aid. The Shadow opened

Strampf stumbled as a bullet clipped his shoulder. Caudrey flung away his gun and went scrambling toward

Along with The Shadow's shots came jabs from Bradthaw's gun. The shots were wild for George was

struggling hard to prevent them. Three bullets were all that Bradthaw wasted. Seeing their futility, he adopted

Keeping George squarely in front of him Bradthaw pressed straight for The Shadow. Half off balance,

George could not resist the drive. He was harrying Bradthaw's gun arm; that was all. The service would be

Again The Shadow laughed. His eerie tone rose with a sardonic shiver that brought a scowl from Strampf, a

quake from Caudrey. Bradthaw's steely eyes riveted upon the weaving figure in black. The supercrook caught

AS that thought drove home to him, Bradthaw pictured men already on the stairs. He knew that at any

moment the door might he ripped open. George Melrue could not serve as a shield against fire from two

The mastercrook acted with surprising speed. He gave a twist that carried him away from George to an

angle that was clear of The Shadow's aim. With a terrific spring, Bradthaw lunged upon the fighter in black,

The Shadow took a backward step through the curtains. An instant later, Bradthaw was driving through,

The Shadow had whipped aside behind the curtain, intending to flank Bradthaw with a sledged attack, the

moment that he arrived. The Shadow wanted the crooked official alive, like Strampf and Caudrey.

In that, The Shadow was scheduled for disappointment. Perhaps Bradthaw himself, would have preferred

The mad impetus of Bradthaw's surge could not be stopped. It had forced The Shadow to a quick side twist to

avoid the shots. Wheeling in upon Bradthaw, The Shadow started a backhand gun stroke as the crook came

through. The Shadow's gun muzzle whipped the curtains; that brush delayed the swing long enough to

Every ounce of strength was behind Bradthaw's drive, for the murderous villain expected to grip The

As he escaped the slowed gun slash, Bradthaw plunged headlong against the loosely closed window shutters

Those barriers gave outward. Bradthaw's knees hit the low sill. He took a long headfirst pitch out through

the window. Even The Shadow's quick swoop was too late to halt that dive. Bradthaw's feet delivered a jerky

A screech trailed upward as Bradthaw's body fell. From the window, The Shadow saw the twisting form

diminishing in its long drop to the street. Bradthaw glanced from projecting cornices as he fell; each jolt

threw him farther outward. His course was like a series of increasing trounces down a mammoth flight of

Near the bottom Bradthaw, spreadeagled downward, so far below that his size seemed toylike. That last

long sprawl carried him to the center of the street, where he flattened, a pitiful blob upon the paving.

Bradthaw was dead before he took that final smash. No human frame could have stood the buffeting that the

TINY cars were stopping in the street. Like beetles, people were approaching Bradthaw's body. They knew

The Shadow stepped back into his sanctum. Others were there, for Bradthaw had been right when he took

Harry and Cliff had charge of Strampf and Caudrey. Other agents were in the background: Hawkeye, Tapper

The Shadow spoke to Francine. She beckoned to George, who came crawling from a corner beside The

Holding two guns, The Shadow pressed their muzzles against Strampf and Caudrey. In sinister whisper, he

In Bradthaw's office, The Shadow stood in silent judgment while Strampf and Caudrey coughed confessions.

Bradthaw's death had broken Strampf. Caudrey's shrewdness was tinged with a yellow streak that displayed

All the while, there were hurried sounds from the tower stairs, along with muffled clangs at the door of the

freight elevator. Later came silence; at last, a sound from an outer office. The law had arrived.

The Shadow waited no longer. With a whispered laugh, he turned and took the doorway toward the freight

Strampf started to show defiance; he halted as he saw The Shadow's gun muzzle poke back into view.

The front door of the office yanked open. In strode Joe Cardona, followed by a squad.

THE story that Cardona heard was the most amazing one that had ever reached his ears. Strampf and Caudrey

repeated their confessions, prompted by Francine who checked every detail that they had given The Shadow.

With those confessions lay proof. Caudrey's insurance policy was on the desk; he had put it there at The

Already incriminated, the cadaverous crook showed the hiding place of Bradthaw's papers that dealt with

In the hallway beside the freight elevator, Cardona found the three million dollars, stacked in the suitcase. He

turned over the wealth to Francine and George. With a grim smile, Cardona looked toward the tower stairs.

Testimony had included mention of The Shadow's sanctum. Cardona wanted to see that blackwalled room

for himself. He went up the steps two at a time. At the top, Joe stared through the opened doorway.

The tower room was bare. Every vestige of its stolen furnishings had been removed by The Shadow's agents.

In the groundfloor garage, they had overpowered waiting thugs. The Shadow's belongings had gone aboard

The truck was gone, with its cargo. The Shadow had followed the same route as his agents. He would choose

a new spot for his hidden headquarters. The Shadow, like his sanctum had vanished.