THE GRAY GHOST..........................................................................................................................................1

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

CHAPTER I. THE RAIDER IN GRAY ..................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. CRIME COMPLETE .......................................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. THE LAW'S TRAIL .......................................................................................................8

CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW'S TRAIL ............................................................................................12

CHAPTER V. MISTAKEN IDENTITY...............................................................................................17

CHAPTER VI. HARRY REPORTS.....................................................................................................22

CHAPTER VII. A BROKEN TRAIL ....................................................................................................25

CHAPTER VIII. NEWS TO THE SHADOW......................................................................................28

CHAPTER IX. THE NEEDED LINK ...................................................................................................33

CHAPTER X. FACTS FOR THE SHADOW .......................................................................................37

CHAPTER XI. CRIME PRETOLD......................................................................................................40

CHAPTER XII. THE GHOST APPEARS............................................................................................45

CHAPTER XIII. FIGHT IN THE DARK.............................................................................................48

CHAPTER XIV. THE TRAP IS LAID.................................................................................................52

CHAPTER XV. THE SHADOW'S PRESENCE..................................................................................56

CHAPTER XVI. THE GHOST GAMBOLS .........................................................................................59

CHAPTER XVII. THE VANISHED OUTLAW..................................................................................62

CHAPTER XVIII. THE NEXT NIGHT ................................................................................................66

CHAPTER XIX. HARRY SEES DOUBLE ..........................................................................................70

CHAPTER XX. MIDCHANNEL.......................................................................................................74

It was a solemnfaced butler who made the statement. He was facing a group of four young people, who

Opened windows gained a wafted breeze; the tang of the air, the distant blasts of steamship whistles,

"Yes, Mr. Gilden." Solemnly, the butler nodded to the Tuxedoed young man who formed the center of the

"The Gray Ghost," chuckled Gilden. "Come, Furbison! Don't tell me that you believe in spooks!"

"There are those who do, sir. Butlers, housemaids, chauffeurs here on Long Island. They have seen the

Gilden stopped the butler with a laugh. The young man turned to the other persons beside him. One was a

young man his own age; the other two were girls who looked like sisters, both in their early twenties.

"Fancy it," chuckled Gilden. "We are living in the twentieth century. Here am I, Pierce Gilden, and you" he

gestured toward the other man "Alan Reeth, both of us imbued with the realism of the modern age. We

"We are chatting with the banker's beautiful daughters," continued Gilden, with a bow toward each of the

girls. "On my right, Jane Debrossler; on my left, her sister, Louise. The scene is one of modern romance, until

it is disturbed by a man who believes in ghosts and sprites. A superstitious person who should have lived in

Gilden stopped short, laughing; the others had joined in his mirth. They were looking at the butler, whose

"I mean you, Furbison!" he accused, in a tone of mock seriousness. "You tell us of the Gray Ghost a

"Really, sir," interposed Furbison. "I meant no ill. I hope that I have not disturbed you "

"Mr. Gilden is joking," interrupted Jane, the younger of the sisters. "He is merely having fun at your expense,

"Quite right, miss," nodded Furbison, relieved. "I was merely repeating the remarks that had been told me."

"We understand," smiled Jane; "and it was my fault, Furbison, for starting the talk. I am sorry. You may go

"Really, Pierce," declared the girl, "this matter is becoming quite serious. All the domestics believe that there

"The robberies have been alarming," declared the elder sister. "Somehow, they don't seem to be the work of

"Yes," agreed Louise. "She is positive that none of the servants knew where they were hidden. Yet they were

"And the Trelawney paintings," added Jane. "They were spirited away in the middle of the night!"

Jane stopped as two elderly men appeared at the door of the sun porch. Gilden and Reeth arose. Jane smiled

"Hello, father," said the girl. "You know Pierce Gilden. And this is Alan Reeth."

Martin Debrossler shook hands with the young men. He introduced the man who was with him as James

Pennybrook, his attorney. While they were chatting, a horn honked from the front of the house. It was

Debrossler's limousine, ready to take the young people into the city. The four went from the sun porch,

"More talk about the Gray Ghost," remarked Debrossler, as he and Pennybrook heard the car pull away with

"Because Furbison has more sense than an ordinary servant. He should not listen to such fables."

"I am not so sure that it is a fable," he declared. "There have been robberies. Someone has accomplished

"Of course not. But a person, perhaps, who has been mistaken for one. You must remember, Debrossler, that

"That he must present a definite appearance. We must picture him always in some grayish garb. Otherwise,

Debrossler sat nodding. His eyes were keen; they sparkled beneath his shocky gray hair. Pennybrook watched

him rather stolidly. The lawyer, owlishfaced and almost bald, formed a distinct contrast to his companion.

"You are right, Pennybrook." repeated Debrossler, "and that fact troubles me. The Gray Ghost is a cunning

"Not to those who keep their business secret," objected Pennybrook, "and that certainly applies to you,

"Of course. Even my daughters know nothing of my business. They have callers such as young Gilden and

this chap Reeth, who is from somewhere in the Middle West but none of the visitors know anything about

"That never happens, Pennybrook, except on evenings when I know that Jane and Louise will not be at home.

Take tonight, for instance. I knew the girls were going to the theater. I ordered the chauffeur to be here with

the car. Jane and Louise have gone; the young men are with them. I shall not be disturbed when Hiram

"Nearly half past eight," he remarked. "Windler should be here in a few minutes. Let us go upstairs to my

"Why not talk with him down here?" inquired Pennybrook, rising with Debrossler. "You say that we shall not

"I have the money in my study," stated Debrossler, in a cautious tone. "One hundred thousand dollars."

"Apparently not. He said that he wanted cash for his properties; that he would not sign the papers unless I

produced the entire sum. Go and get your briefcase Pennybrook, and meet me in the study."

The lawyer stopped in a hallway vestibule while Debrossler ascended gloomy stairs to the second floor. At

the top, Debrossler paused in a dim side passage, while he produced a key to unlock a heavy door. He paused

a moment, waiting for Pennybrook. Deciding that the lawyer had mislaid his brief case, Debrossler unlocked

The barrier swung inward; Debrossler stopped on the threshold in profound amazement. The study was

lighted; that fact startled him immediately. His eyes looked toward the center of the room, instinctively

There Debrossler saw the sight that made him gape. Standing beyond the desk was a halfcrouched figure,

clad in a jerseylike suit of mottled gray. The man was masked by a hood that projected downward from a

rounded cap, all a part of his odd garb. Glaring eyes shone through slits in the cloth.

In his right hand, which was covered by a glove that formed part of the sleeved jersey, the intruder held a

gleaming revolver. His left hand, also covered with finger pieces of gray, was half drawn from an opened

The gun was covering the door at which Debrossler stood. The other hand was clutching a thick batch of

crisp, green currency. The intruder had found the money that Debrossler had brought home from the bank.

One hundred bills, each of thousanddollar denomination; money intended for payment to a visitor named

Hiram Windler such was the swag that the graygarbed thief had gained. Martin Debrossler, horrified, was

But it was not the vicious daring of the theft that riveted the banker; nor was it the menace of the pointed

revolver. Stark fear, the facing of the incredible, was the emotion that made Debrossler incapable of action.

Debrossler had rejected the impossible; yet it stood before him. He knew the identity of the man whom he

The intruder answered vague descriptions that Debrossler had heard. He tallied with the mental pictures that

A snarl came from the covered lips of the Gray Ghost. The utterance proved a fact that Debrossler had

The lighted study showed the jersey form too well to make it appear deceptive. Yet Debrossler was gripped

by the thought that this prowler, seen in duller illumination, could easily be accepted as a ghost, if viewed by

The rumors voiced by servants were thus established. That knowledge, however, did not bring comfort to

Debrossler. The banker would have preferred to face a specter, rather than this human vandal who had come

to pilfer cash. The revolver, clutched by a human hand, was a physical menace that made Debrossler quail.

Satisfied that his victim would make no move, the Gray Ghost bounded from behind the desk. Thrusting the

sheaves of currency beneath a broad fold of his jersey, the thief sidled toward the window, all the while

holding Debrossler motionless with the gun. The window was open; that proved how the crook had entered,

for Debrossler kept the window locked. Quick work with the jimmy was evidently one of the Gray Ghost's

To reach the window, the Gray Ghost was forced to pass close to Debrossler. With another snarl, the robber

warned the banker to stand his ground. Debrossler would have done so, but for an interruption that both he

Debrossler took the sounds as an indication of Pennybrook's approach. He saw the Gray Ghost hesitate and

glance toward the door. For a moment, the revolver no longer covered the banker. Debrossler gained sudden

alarm; he foresaw death for Pennybrook should the lawyer make too rapid an entry. With that dread for

With a sharp cry, the banker hurled himself upon the Gray Ghost. He grabbed for the crook's gun arm.

The Gray Ghost swung viciously with his revolver. His blow was hasty, for he was half wrestling his wrist

from Debrossler's grasp. The banker stopped the blow and clutched the Gray Ghost's throat. With a hard

twist, the crook flayed his left arm sidewise and delivered a forearm uppercut to Debrossler's chin. The

The Gray Ghost leaped for the door and pressed the light switch. As he did, another man entered. Gasping,

The shout was too late. Something thudded in the darkness. There was a groan; a figure slumped to the floor.

The Gray Ghost leaped away from the man whom he had slugged with the revolver. He grabbed the door and

Again, the Gray Ghost sent the banker sprawling. This time, Debrossler rolled over and thumped against the

desk. His head spun; dizzily, he heard a clamber at the window. He tried to rise; but slumped.

Someone was pounding at the door. Debrossler heard an anxious voice. It was Furbison. The butler was

A muffled clatter told that the butler was running downstairs. Debrossler hoped that he would not encounter

In the darkness, Debrossler managed to find his feet. He steadied himself against the desk, then stumbled

toward the door. Halfway, he tripped over a prone, unconscious body. Sprawled, Debrossler found new

trouble in rising. He crawled to the door, pulled himself up in rickety fashion and found the light switch. He

Looking toward the floor, Debrossler saw Pennybrook. The lawyer had received a hard slug from the

revolver. His bald head showed a lump as large as a bantam's egg. Debrossler approached the lawyer, but

found himself unable to lift Pennybrook's dead weight. While he struggled with the task, there were new

On the threshold stood a stocky man, with swarthy, squareset countenance; behind him was Furbison,

"Acting Inspector Cardona," he replied. "Driving out here from headquarters. You're Martin Debrossler?"

"Your butler stopped my car," explained Cardona. "Told me he thought there was murder going on inside.

He indicated Pennybrook. Debrossler gave the lawyer's name and explained how he had entered the fray.

Furbison brought in Pennybrook's briefcase, which had been dropped at the head of the stairs. Cardona,

"He'll come around in a few minutes," decided the acting inspector. "That bump looks like a surface one.

"Cut wires," grunted Cardona. Then, after a glance toward the window, he queried: "Who was the fellow who

"He was masked," replied Debrossler. "His face hooded. He was dressed in a tightfitting suit of gray."

"I've heard those rumors," announced Cardona. "It's the Gray Ghost, all right. But he's no ghost."

There was a groan from the couch. Pennybrook was rising, rubbing his sore head. The lawyer stared at

"Look!" Debrossler pointed to the desk. "There is the drawer he rifled! The Gray Ghost ripped it open, lock

For the first time, Cardona realized that a robbery had been completed. Swinging to Furbison, he ordered:

"Get over to the next house. Call the local precinct. Tell them to put the patrol cars on the hunt. Describe the

Cardona stared. He had supposed that the crook had netted nothing more than spare cash.

"One hundred thousand dollars," repeated Debrossler, grimly, "and only one man knew that I had the money

here. Find him, inspector, and you will have a clue. Perhaps he is even working with the crook."

"A man who lives only a mile from here. He had business with me. He insisted that I bring one hundred

"At half past eight," replied Debrossler. "That is why I came up here to the study. Why do you ask?"

"Because," returned Cardona. "I was on my way to Windler's when your butler stopped me. It was on account

"Windler could not summon you?" queried Debrossler. "What do you mean by that, inspector?"

It was ten o'clock when a coupe pulled up in front of a squatly house near Long Island Sound. A tall driver

alighted; he was immediately challenged by a uniformed policeman, who put the query:

"My name is Lamont Cranston," spoke the arrival, in a leisurely tone. "I have come to see Police

Commissioner Weston. I am a friend of the commissioner's; I observed his car in the driveway."

The policeman hesitated then decided to admit the visitor. Cranston was attired in evening clothes. He looked

Inside the house, the tall arrival ran into Acting Inspector Cardona. The stocky man gave immediate greeting.

Dim hall lights showed a slight smile upon the hawklike features of the arrival. Cranston followed Cardona to

a parlor, where he was greeted by a man of military appearance: Commissioner Ralph Weston. The

"So you scented crime. You were right, Cranston. There was murder here tonight. The owner of this house

"Appears to have been a rogue who styles himself the Gray Ghost. Be seated, Cranston, and you can listen to

To Commissioner Weston, Lamont Cranston was simply a friend who had shown some interest in the

solution of criminal cases. Actually, this personage who posed as Cranston was The Shadow. He was a

These were matters that The Shadow did not mention to his friend the commissioner.

Weston had motioned to Cardona. The acting inspector brought two persons into the room. Both appeared to

be servants. One was a Chinese cook; the other a Swedish housemaid. The Shadow recognized that they had

"Hiram Windler had no family," summarized Weston. "These are the only other occupants of the house: Lee

Wan, the cook; Lempe, the maid. However, until a week ago, Windler had a secretary, a young man named

"Windler owned property. It was Culden's task to classify those holdings and to arrange matters pertaining to

their sale. Culden finished the work six days ago. Tonight, for some unknown reason, he returned."

"I bane see heem," announced Lempe, nodding. "Ya, I bane see Mr. Culden in room right here. I tank he

"That was at six thirty," stated Weston. "Lempe was the only one of the two servants who saw Culden.

"Windler remained downstairs after dinner. At eight o'clock. he went upstairs to his bedroom, since he always

rested at that hour. Lee Wan had opened the door of the back stairs. He heard a shot; accompanied by Lempe,

"The local precinct was notified by these servants. The investigation showed an opened window; the

murderer had evidently jumped to the ground. The earth in a flower bed is scuffed, but bears no trace of

"Inasmuch as Windler often retired at eight o'clock, the investigation was confined to these grounds, despite

the fact that Windler's hat and overcoat were in the bedroom. It was not until later that we learned of

Windler's intention to go out this evening. He had an appointment with Martin Debrossler, a banker who lives

"I was coming past Debrossler's at twenty minutes of nine," declared Joe. "A butler stopped my car. He was

Furbison, who works for Debrossler. Trouble in the house; I entered and found Debrossler and his lawyer,

"Both were in the secondfloor study. They'd been bowled over by a robber who answered the description of

the Gray Ghost. The fellow had gone out the window with a hundred thousand dollars intended for Windler.

"No footprints there. We've searched all the roads between this house and Debrossler's. Patrol cars have

covered highways, stopping cars leaving this area. The crook was too fast for us. He made a getaway."

There was a pause following Cardona's statement. Then Weston continued the summary.

"Police boats have also patrolled the Sound," declared the commissioner. "We have given them a fair

description of Culden; but the details are meager. Lempe and Lee Wan class him as of medium height,

slender build, dark complexion and with brown eyes and dark hair. That, however, could fit any number of

"Since Lempe did not see Culden leave the house, there is a chance that he remained here. We suspect him of

being the murderer; also of having played the part of the Gray Ghost. Having lived on Long Island for several

"There was time for him to murder Windler, then go to Debrossler's on foot; therefore, he may have had no

car. To leave Holmwood, without an automobile or a boat, Culden would have had to take the train. Cardona,

"A train went into the city at seven twentysix," stated Joe. "The next was at eight twentysix. Culden

couldn't have taken either of them. He was here at eight o'clock and at Debrossler's at eight thirty."

"There was a train at nine twentysix," continued Cardona, "but Culden wasn't on it. The station agent was

out on the platform; only three people went aboard and he knew all of them. There's another train at ten

twentysix; a last one at eleven twentysix. I've posted men to watch both of them."

"Culden will not be on either train," predicted Weston. "He would have been a fool to leave here by railroad.

We can count upon it that he will not appear at the station tonight. Nevertheless, we shall leave the men on

Driving his own car, The Shadow followed the commissioner to Debrossler's. The course led away from the

direction of the railroad station, in a rather roundabout circuit. Both houses were one street back from the

This meant that the cars were forced to go a few blocks inland, to a wide, treelined avenue. Halfway to

Debrossler's, a single street went out to the Sound. Passing that thoroughfare, The Shadow saw lights in the

distance. From previous knowledge of this district, he knew that the street led to the Holmwood Beach Club,

At Debrossler's another street made a dead end when it neared the Sound. Debrossler's house was lighted;

The Shadow pulled in alongside Weston's car. There was a question that needed explanation; namely, why

The question was answered shortly after The Shadow had been introduced as Cranston to Debrossler and

Pennybrook. Cardona mentioned that he had taken the wrong road to Holmwood. He had come into town

Debrossler and Pennybrook were seated in the enclosed porch. The banker was grumbly; the lawyer, moody.

Both attitudes were explainable: Debrossler's by his loss of a hundred thousand dollars; Pennybrook's by the

blow that he had taken on the head. Debrossler heard Weston's theory concerning Culden and agreed with it.

"Confound it!" expressed Debrossler. "I knew that Windler had a secretary; but I never saw the fellow, nor

"Certainly," assured Debrossler. "I talked with Windler more than a week ago. That was when we made this

"Except to find out if the appointment had been postponed. There was a chance that I might have gone from

"Culden is the man we must find," he decided "unless there is someone else who could have known your

"My daughters" replied the banker, "and two young men. One man was Pierce Gilden, whom we know quite

well. The other was Alan Reeth, from out of town. But none of them knew that I had an appointment with

"Yes. In my big car. Towden, the chauffeur, was driving. We called Towden from another house, a short

while ago. I talked to him at the Manhattan garage where he always parks the car."

"Simply that he had driven straight into the city and got there before nine o'clock. He delivered all four

"At seven o'clock, for dinner. They were here until half past eight. My daughters can vouch for that,

There was an unpleasant pause. Debrossler seemed piqued because Weston had quizzed him concerning

persons who could not have had a part in either crime. It was The Shadow who ended the pause; he delivered

"One point is evident, commissioner," he stated. "Anyone who left Holmwood and went directly to the city

"And thirty to return," added The Shadow. "Of course" he paused, speculatively "if one went by train, the

"Yes, I am right. The railroad trip requires forty minutes. In by train, out by automobile, at least seventyfive

"That has nothing to do with the matter, Cranston," interrupted Weston, testily. "Your calculations are

"It is nearly eleven," he remarked. "I wish to be in New York before midnight. Hence I must leave you,

"Ah, I had forgotten. Your wire has been cut. Very well, I shall call the club from a store in Holmwood."

The Shadow departed. Weston reviewed his summary for the benefit of Debrossler and Pennybrook. The

commissioner made his exit with Cardona. They started toward the town of Holmwood. Not far past the street

to Windler's, they heard the tinkling of a gradecrossing bell. Cardona pointed to flashing lights.

"That's the eleven twentysix," said Cardona. "Just starting into town. We can stop and tell the two men to go

Weston agreed. The chauffeur swung the car into a driveway beside the oldfashioned station that marked

the terminus of the Holmwood branch Cardona leaned from the window and beckoned to two men who stood

"Two women went in on the last train," reported one. "Nobody got aboard this rattler. There it goes pulling

The rumble of the electric train had faded in the distance. All was silent about the platform where small

lights, spaced apart, made but a pitiful glow against the blanket of surrounding night.

It was then that a figure stepped into view. The solitary arrival appeared tall and conspicuous upon the

deserted platform. Commissioner Weston would have been perplexed, had he remained to witness the

approach of this lone personage. The commissioner would have recognized his friend, Lamont Cranston.

The law, sure that it had identified the Gray Ghost as Culden, had been content to depart with that one clue.

The station agent looked through the wicket as he heard the query. Closing the office for the night, he had not

detected footsteps in the waiting room. Peering, the station agent nodded as he viewed the features of Lamont

"Too bad, sir," he said. "You'll have to take a cab down by the restaurant. It's a couple of miles over to

"That's right, sir. Not going into the city, anyway. There'll be some out, though, on the train that arrives here

The Shadow gave a quiet chuckle at the man's logic. The station agent began to consider himself a wit.

Affably, he leaned on the ledge inside the wicket and began to talk of the most important news that had come

"Did you hear about the murder, sir?" he queried, in an awed tone. "Some killer got old Hiram Windler. They

"Sure! Everybody's been talking about him for the last few weeks. He's been robbing houses right and left, at

The station agent leaned closer, in the manner of a man who possessed inside information.

"There were detectives posted here tonight," he undertoned. "Looking for a fellow named Culden. Thought

"Not unless I was told who he was. Kind of medium build, the detectives said, with dark complexion. There

was a fellow looked like him on the seven twentysix; but that couldn't have been Culden."

"Don't you see how it was, sir? The murder wasn't until eight o'clock; and there was a robbery at half past

eight. If a man had gone in on the seven twentysix, he wouldn't have reached the Pennsylvania Station until

"This fellow didn't. He went all the way into New York. The baggage man told me about it when he came

"Sure. This fellow had a dog with him, so he had to ride into New York in the baggage car. It wasn't much

more than a pup. The baggage man said the pooch howled all the way into Pennsy Station. When he got

there, the fellow had to check the hound somewhere South. Yes, sir, I'll bet he had a rare time with that

"Yeah. But they weren't interested. They were looking for Culden. This inspector fellow, Cardona, said that

Remembering that his hours were ended, the station agent moved back into the ticket office. The Shadow

strolled out to the platform and entered his coupe, which was parked beyond a line of high bushes.

Within the darkness of the coupe, The Shadow delivered a whispered laugh. His visit to the station had

brought results. It fitted with a theory of his own, one at variance with Weston's.

It was plain that Windler's secretary was connected with crime; but in a minor capacity that could not be

proved against him. The law would have a difficult time breaking down Culden's denials of complicity,

Culden had come to Holmwood to find out if Hiram Windler intended to keep his appointment with Martin

Debrossler. That fact learned, Culden had left Windler's house with promptitude. He had contacted another

Then Culden had set out to establish an alibi. The Gray Ghost did not intend to murder Windler until after the

victim had dined. Culden's job, therefore, was to be aboard the seven twentysix, riding into New York at the

Robbery was the Gray Ghost's next step requiring a prompt visit to Debrossler's, following the murder of

Windler. Culden's alibi would be good almost until nine o'clock. But the alibi itself was a tricky proposition.

First: an excuse for having come to Long Island, to make the visit at Windler's seem innocuous. Second:

witnesses who would positively remember that he traveled all the way into the Pennsylvania Station on the

Culden had stopped somewhere to obtain the dog during the hour between his departure from Windler's and

train time. He could say, if questioned later, that he had come to Long Island to get the dog.

Because of the dog, he had found an excuse to ride into New York in the baggage car. He had rendered

himself so conspicuous that the baggage man and other members of the train crew would remember him, if

called upon to identify him later. At the same time, Culden had not found it necessary to mention his name to

It showed that Culden had wanted to avoid questioning, if possible. There were reasons why he held such

preference. Though his alibi was solid, Culden was probably squeamish about explaining himself to the law;

it would be better to dodge that ordeal, if possible. Moreover, since he was working for the Gray Ghost, he

Since the train crew did not know that they had carried Culden, the police had naturally picked the secretary

as the man they wanted. Weston and Cardona had chosen a blind trail. They were after the wrong man.

Real clues to the Gray Ghost might still be found at Holmwood. That was why The Shadow had remained.

Minutes passed. A train slithered into the station. Several persons alighted and walked away. The conductor

extinguished the platform lights. Soon a man approached The Shadow's coupe. The Shadow spoke in a

The arrival was Harry Vincent, an agent of The Shadow's. He had caught the last train from New York, in

response to a telephone call that The Shadow had made immediately after leaving Debrossler's. Harry had

The coupe purred softly, as The Shadow drove out to the road. In even tones, The Shadow briefly divulged

developments to Harry. A short ride brought them to the vicinity of Windler's residence. The Shadow parked

the car in darkness; he instructed Harry to be ready at the wheel. That order given, The Shadow stepped from

While awaiting Harry, The Shadow had donned garb of black. A shrouded figure in the darkness, he moved

invisibly to the walls of Windler's house. Police had ended their vigil; nevertheless, The Shadow was cautious

as he utilized a tiny flashlight. Rays fell only upon spots of The Shadow's choosing; the light, itself was

muffled in the folds of his cloak. Harry, back in the car, could not observe the blinks.

Windler's grounds had been well scoured. The Shadow, however, had a purpose of his own. Beginning below

the window through which the Gray Ghost had escaped, he examined the flower bed.

The Shadow knew that the Gray Ghost had not lingered after his flight from Windler's. Therefore, The

Shadow sought evidence of some prearrangement. His flashlight showed widespaced streaks in the dirt. The

The murderer had prepared for his swift exit by placing some soft covering upon the flower bed. Landing

upon it, he had made no definite footprints. A simple dragging process, accomplished with removal of the

The ground about Windler's was hard. The police had found no trace of the Gray Ghost's path. Since the

killer had headed for Debrossler's, the law had naturally searched in the direction of the road. The Shadow

tried the opposite procedure. He moved across the lawn in the direction of the Sound.

The Shadow came to a high stone wall, which formed an extension of a hedge on the Sound side of the house.

The police had been thorough enough to examine the thick hedge. Finding no breaks in it, they had gone

elsewhere. They had entirely neglected the wall; for it was the most difficult route by which anyone could

With a springing leap, The Shadow clutched the top of the wall, a good eight feet above the ground. He

scaled the barrier, poised upon a broad ledge and used the flashlight. The wall was of stone; the top cracks

were filled with mortar. The Shadow found crumbled patches of stone; against a roughened, micatinted

It was a thread from the Gray Ghost's jersey. Leaning over the far edge of the wall, The Shadow shone the

flashlight downward. The glare showed dust, streaked, like the dirt of the flower bed. The Gray Ghost had

dropped his blanketing cloth from the top of the wall. Leaping off, he had again avoided footprints."

Dropping from the wall, The Shadow used his flashlight along rough, tufted ground that produced a tiny path

leading toward the Sound. He knew that he was following directly upon the Gray Ghost's trail, even though

Leaving Windler's, the Gray Ghost had held two desires. One was to cover his trail; the other was to reach

Debrossler's. He had, therefore, chosen a course that would serve both purposes.

By taking to the wall, he had left searchers baffled. By reaching the Sound, he had gained access to a water

At the shore, The Shadow found a decrepit pier that had probably been built by a former owner of Windler's

house. The old recluse had abandoned the landing place. Its paint had become a faded gray. The Shadow

streaked the flashlight along the brokendown pilings, which were flimsy, for the pier had never been a

strong one. The glow showed what The Shadow hoped: a dab of white against one post.

The Gray Ghost had docked a rowboat at Windler's old pier. The side of the craft had scraped a piling.

Judging from the height of the white paint above the water, and allowing for the tide, The Shadow could

calculate the approximate size of the boat. He knew that the Gray Ghost would have preferred a rowboat to a

small motor craft. Oars could be handled with a degree of silence; the puttputt of a motor would have been

Returning to the coupe, The Shadow ordered Harry to drive toward Debrossler's. As they reached the road

that led down to the Holmwood Beach Club, The Shadow gave another order. Harry took the road to the club.

Lights glowed; music was audible as the coupe neared the Sound. The club's pier was a large one, wide

enough for cars to park. There was also a broad driveway to the left. The clubhouse stood beyond that space.

A dance was in progress at the club. Guests had therefore parked their cars in the drive. Some had already

left; but the space looked ample for at least fifty cars. It followed that no one had parked upon the pier. That

The Shadow whispered to Harry. The agent drove the car out to the end of the pier, swung crosswise and

extinguished the lights. Total darkness covered the coupe. The Shadow stepped to the pier.

Following the side of the pier most distant from the clubhouse drive, The Shadow moved inshore. Turning

his flashlight toward the water's edge, he saw a stretch of hard, sandy beach. Situated below the pier, on the

right side when one faced the Sound, that strip of beach was completely isolated. No one could have viewed

There were boats drawn up to the inner edge of the beach. The Shadow took to the sand; he approached the

boats and used the flashlight. He found a white rowboat, its sides dripping wet. Running the flashlight along

the sand, he saw the scraped line along which the boat had been drawn from the water.

There were no traces of footprints. The Shadow sought the answer in the boat itself. He found the clue he

A broad, thick piece of canvas was wedged beneath the bow. Folded hurriedly, it formed a crumpled mass.

The Shadow pulled out the canvas and spread it across the boat. He flicked his flashlight.

Not only had the canvas served the murderer at the flower bed and beyond the stone wall; he had utilized it

finally when he had drawn the boat up from the water. Tossing it, outspread, from the bow of the boat, the

Gray Ghost had stepped upon the canvas to draw the boat after him. Thus he had gained rocky soil, where

He had also shaken the canvas well before wadding it into the rowboat. There were no footprints upon the

canvas. To an extent, the Gray Ghost had nullified his trail. Nevertheless, The Shadow could easily picture

A guest at the club dance, the Gray Ghost had left. He had taken the rowboat and made a trip to Windler's.

Following his action there, the murderer had rowed back along the shore of the Sound. But he had not

After perpetrating robbery as his second crime, the Gray Ghost had rowed back to the club beach. Oiled

oarlocks, noted by The Shadow, proved that the trip had been made in speedy silence.

The Gray Ghost had returned to the dance at the clubhouse. He might be there yet. Possibly he had left with

departing guests. One thing certain, the Gray Ghost's identity could be better established if more clues could

A whispered laugh sounded in the darkness, as The Shadow returned toward the coupe. Before he sought the

Gray Ghost in person, The Shadow intended to search a spot where other evidence might lie.

Harry Vincent stopped the coupe some fifty yards from Debrossler's house at The Shadow's order.

The place was ablaze with light. Cars were parked outside. Moving figures could be seen at the illuminated

The police had left Debrossler's; but evidently the people there were still concerned about the Gray Ghost's

A stealthy shape was gliding through the darkness of Debrossler's ample lawn. Silent and unseen The

Shadow reached the house wall directly below the window of the banker's study. A flashlight glimmered;

Certain factors were apparent to The Shadow, as he stood beside the looming house wall. The Gray Ghost

had taken an easier leap from Debrossler's window than from Windler's. The tilt of the ground made that

evident. Windler's bedroom had been above the lower side of the lawn, where the ground sloped downward.

Debrossler's was on the upper side. Here, the crook had taken little hazard in dropping to hard ground.

At Windler's, the Gray Ghost must have entered with ease. Culden had probably told him of unlocked doors,

or windows on the ground floor. The murderer had found no difficulty in reaching the upstairs bedroom

At Debrossler's, however, the Gray Ghost had been forced to find means of entering a locked room on the

second floor. His only course had been to jimmy the window of the study. To reach that point, he had

Unquestionably, the man who had played the Gray Ghost was both powerful and athletic. The fact that he had

deliberately leaped the wall beside Windler's hedge was proof that no ordinary physical hazard bothered him.

His reliance upon the rowboat as a means of speedy and effective transit also marked him as an athlete.

Added to these was present proof. The Gray Ghost had used no ladder to enter Debrossler's study. He could

not have carried one away with him; and the police had found no ladder on the grounds. Through sheer

The Shadow had a simple test whereby he could learn the difficulty of that task. His flashlight stowed

beneath his cloak, he began to scale the wall himself. Gripping projecting stones with his gloved fingers, he

dug the softtoed points of his shoes into spots below. Beetlelike, The Shadow ascended to the study

Carefully muffled, the flashlight glimmered while The Shadow clung to a projecting stone. A new strand of

gray appeared in the light. It was a bit of cloth attached to the pointed prong of an iron shutter catch, at the

Extinguishing his light, The Shadow felt for the catch. It wabbled as he gripped it. The Shadow swung his

free arm across and found the catch on the opposite side of the window. He gripped it, released all other hold

The evidence told The Shadow that the Gray Ghost had grabbed the shutter catch at the left. It had come

loose under the strain. The inference, therefore, was that the venturer had been of heavy build, his weight

greater than The Shadow's. For The Shadow himself was gaining support from the remaining shutter catch.

The Shadow's light glimmered upward. It showed the shutter above the broken catch. The shutter was of

metal; its hinges heavy. With the catch broken, the Gray Ghost had managed to support himself upon the

Trying this, The Shadow found the process simple. The shutter hinges were rusty. Swung outward from the

wall, the shutter remained in fixed position. The Gray Ghost could have sought no better support while he

The window itself had been closed after the police investigation. It was unlocked; The Shadow raised the

sash and entered. He used the flashlight to examine the broken lock. The Gray Ghost had splintered wood

with the jimmy. An easy process; yet one which bore out The Shadow's previous findings. The Gray Ghost

had been a man of unusual physique. It had taken a powerful wrist to accomplish the jimmy work so capably.

Suddenly, The Shadow's flashlight became black. At the opened window, The Shadow had heard an approach

below. Leaning out into the darkness, he listened. He caught the sound of mumbled voices below the wall.

"I saw it, Towden," came a trembling tone. "I tell you, there was a light at the study window."

"It wasn't the study light. It was like a little flashlight. We must inform the master!"

In examining the jimmied window The Shadow had allowed an unguarded blink. It had been spotted by two

men roaming the lawn: Furbison, the butler, and Towden, the chauffeur. Towden evidently had returned from

Evidently, Debrossler had instructed his servants to look about the grounds. Faring forth, they had arrived too

late to surprise The Shadow making entry. But Furbison had spotted the flashlight, and was going in to

The Shadow's only course was departure. An easy route would be the window. A surprise drop upon Towden

would be effective. But it would also betray the fact that there had actually been someone in the study. The

Shadow preferred to have Debrossler think that Furbison's observation of a blinking flashlight had been a

Descending to the lower hall, The Shadow heard voices. The living room was darkened; he entered it. With

gliding course, The Shadow reached a pitchblack spot behind a door that was opened inward from the

porch. This was one section of a French window; it had a drawn shade. A trickle of light, through the crack of

the door, was insufficient to disturb the darkness of The Shadow's hiding place.

From this vantage point, The Shadow could hear and see the persons on the porch.

Pennybrook was present. The lawyer had recovered from his moodiness. Apparently, his headache was

ended. Debrossler's two daughters were also on the porch; with them was a young man, tall, but of slender

build. His face was pleasant but serious. His complexion was light, like his hair. His air was polite; he was

faultlessly attired in a Tuxedo. The Shadow knew that this must be Pierce Gilden or Alan Reeth. The man

"That's how the Gray Ghost made his getaway," declaimed Debrossler, "and if you're anything of a detective,

"They have attributed the crime to Windler's secretary," replied Debrossler. "But no one seems to know much

"Culden," mused Gilden. "I never heard of him. I don't like the name, though." He paused to deliver a wry

"That's so," put in Pennybrook, with a laugh. "It wouldn't be past those police investigators to get the names

"Of course," laughed Louise Debrossler. "You were not out of our sight, Pierce, from seven o'clock until

"Excellent!" decided Gilden. "I am glad that we went out together tonight. I am sorry, though, that Reeth did

"He stopped off at his hotel," explained Jane. "Alan is going out of town tomorrow."

"Let us get back to the matter of the Gray Ghost," decided Debrossler. "Let us try to decide who he might be.

The Gray Ghost is acquainted with this part of Long Island. He knew of affairs tonight.

"He cannot be myself nor Pennybrook. Nor could he have been you, Gilden; nor Reeth. Windler was

murdered; he was not the Gray Ghost. We come logically to Culden. The police are right. Culden is the Gray

"I agree with that," asserted Pennybrook. "But what good does it do us? Where is Culden?"

"Or where will he be?" queried Gilden. "What places should be searched for him?"

Debrossler was stroking his chin. There was a momentary pause. Furbison, tense and quivering, arrived.

"What!" roared Debrossler. "And you stood here like a dead log? What folly, Furbison! By this time, the

"Hardly, sir," returned Furbison. "Towden is outside, watching the study window."

"We have no revolvers," he declared, ruefully. "Bah! I should have had the police commissioner leave a

weapon with a temporary permit. But we have canes, in the hallway rack. Stout ones. Arm yourselves with

The girls delivered alarmed cries. Debrossler silenced them, and Pennybrook added his challenge.

"Let me meet the Gray Ghost," announced the lawyer. "I have a score to settle with him."

"We shall all deal with him," declared Debrossler. "Come! We have no time to lose."

The three men hurried through the living room, leaving Furbison, anxiouseyed, upon the threshold of the

porch. The butler was shaky. He did not relish the idea of joining Towden in the darkness. As he started to

Two things happened at once. Debrossler, at the door from the hallway, pressed the light switch. Furbison, at

the threshold of the porch, swung the door behind which The Shadow stood. The butler, wildeyed, saw the

Furbison was between Debrossler and The Shadow. The banker did not catch full view of the shape against

the wall. He saw Furbison totter back in fear. Thereupon Debrossler sprang forward, game for battle.

Like a living whirlwind, The Shadow hurtled outward into the room. He was upon Debrossler instantly, he

spun the banker about and sent him floundering against a table. The Shadow reached the hallway. There, he

The lawyer was swinging a heavy cane, apparently anxious to deal with the Gray Ghost. He bashed a stroke

at The Shadow; the blackclad invader stopped Pennybrook's arm with an upswinging fist.

Plucking the cane from Pennybrook's grasp, The Shadow swung it on a wide sweep to the floor. As

Pennybrook tried to grapple, The Shadow thrust the cane between the lawyer's ankles. Wrenching away, he

The Shadow had released the cane. He was driving toward the front door. Gilden was picking a cane from the

rack; the young man dropped it in his haste and leaped, barehanded, upon The Shadow. Fiercely, Gilden

The Shadow wrenched away the grasping hands. Gaining a jujitsu hold upon Gilden, he swung him about

toward the inner end of the hall. Pennybrook had regained his feet and was ready for a new drive. With a

heave of his shoulders, The Shadow propelled Gilden's light form squarely against the lawyer. Gilden and

Debrossler's daughters were screaming the alarm from the windows of the porch. Towden had heard them.

Another grapple in the darkness. Towden never had the slightest advantage. The Shadow had expected him.

With a huge swing, he sent the chauffeur headlong into a clump of shrubbery. Making for the street, The

Back in Holmwood, a new search would be on. The law would gain the report that the Gray Ghost had

returned. The Shadow's investigation had been ended for tonight; but he had profited by the brief episode at

The false report of the Gray Ghost's return might well produce advantages. The Shadow could foresee

The next afternoon found Harry Vincent at the Holmwood Beach Club. He was seated on the veranda,

watching events upon the pier. Bathers were diving from the springboard; others were swimming near the

Harry had gained an introduction at the club. He had driven out from New York at noon, armed with a letter

from an investment broker named Rutledge Mann. The letter had given him entree. Mann knew the manager

The club had accommodations for overnight guests, but few persons availed themselves of the privilege.

Harry had found no difficulty in obtaining a room; he had also had a chance to study the club register and

note the names of those who had stayed there the night before. There were only half a dozen on the list.

Idling on the veranda, Harry considered a mental picture which he had long since formed. It was one that The

Shadow had given him a description of the man who could have played the Gray Ghost. Detail by detail,

The man, should Harry find him, would be at least six feet tall and one hundred and eighty pounds in weight.

He would have brawny arms, for he was a capable oarsman. Chances were that he would prove to be an

excellent swimmer; also a sportsman. The murderer of Hiram Windler had relied upon a single shot with a

The man would have social status. The fact that he had been a guest at last night's dance indicated that point.

The Shadow had come to the conclusion that the Gray Ghost would not have taken a chance in the populated

vicinity of the Holmwood Beach Club unless he had possessed good reason for being there.

So far, Harry had learned only one matter of consequence. The rowboat that the Gray Ghost had used was the

property of the club. Thus it gave no clue to the Gray Ghost's identity; but it did substantiate The Shadow's

belief that the man had been a guest at the club. Otherwise, he might have had difficulty in learning about the

Talk was rife concerning the Gray Ghost. Influential residents of Holmwood had applied for gun permits.

They had been granted the privilege. Towns farther out along the Sound were copying the example of

Holmwood. Though superstitious servants might regard the Gray Ghost as a phantom murderer, land owners

certainly considered him to be a human being. Last night's robbery had marked the largest endeavor in a

There were many versions of The Shadow's flight from Debrossler's. All of them accepted the testimony that

the fugitive had been the Gray Ghost, back again. Some of the stories had the Gray Ghost vanishing like a

While he listened to such chatter, Harry watched all who came to the clubhouse or the pier. Not one man

whom he had seen, tallied with the requirements. Some were tall, but lacked weight. Others were husky but

only of medium height. One man who might have tallied proved himself a dub when he entered a canoe,

A sporty roadster had wheeled into the drive. Harry saw a young man alight and help two girls from the car.

Thinking of the Gray Ghost, Harry studied Gilden. He noted that the young man though tall, was of slight

build. The notation, of course, was nonessential. Pierce Gilden, of all persons, could not have been the Gray

The trio went toward the pier. Harry watched the departure, then chanced to turn toward the clubhouse door.

Tall, heavybuilt, this newcomer was a young man with a rugged, squarejawed face. His profile was

choppy; Harry noted the glint of eyes that stared from beneath straightlined brows. The man looked like an

athlete. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows; Harry saw forearms that would have suited a crack oarsman.

"Not much," replied Renright, gruffly. "People hereabouts seem gifted with imaginations. By the way, I'm

Renright strode away. Harry saw him enter a parked coupe and drive toward Holmwood. Remembering the

club register of overnight guests, Harry recalled the name of Colin Renright. Approaching the door, Harry

"He doesn't. He lives out at Narrowneck. He used to be a member of this club. He stops overnight,

Entering the clubhouse, Harry went to a telephone. He put in a call to Rutledge Mann, and made a report.

Mann promised to have facts concerning Renright within the next hour. He then proceeded to give Harry

Leaving the club, Harry went to his own coupe. He drove away on a new mission. Mann had informed him

what facts had been learned regarding the dog that Culden had taken into New York. The dog had been

shipped South; the shipper's name was P.T. Yenner, whose address was a Holmwood residence. It was

Rutledge Mann, as contact agent for The Shadow, had many sources of information. His capacity of

investment broker gave him wide acquaintance. Mann had been cooperating effectively today.

Harry found the Yenner residence. It was only a few blocks from the railway station. The place was closed,

"'Twasn't for sale, that hound," he declared. "Mr. Yenner had him sent to the hunting lodge in Carolina."

"'Twasn't Mr. Yenner as shipped him," he explained. "The hound was too young; that's why I was akeeping

"I probably know the man who called here," he remarked. "I know most of Mr. Yenner's friends. What was

"Can't answer that one," replied the gardener. "His face was a new one to me. But wasn't anybody but a friend

of Mr. Yenner that would ha' knowed about the hound. Like yourself, sir. That's why I give him the dog."

Harry drove away. He had gained new proof of Culden's subtle tactics in framing an alibi and producing a

false trail. Culden must have known Yenner as an acquaintance. He had arranged to ship the dog some time

ago. Knowing that Yenner would be away, Culden was sure that the dog incident would not be brought to

Reaching the club, Harry put in a call to Mann. He reported on the Yenner matter, then received information

that concerned Renright. Harry was to contact the athlete; to claim friendship with a Californian named James

He was on the veranda studying these memos when Renright drove up. Pocketing his notebook, Harry arose

and greeted the husky man when he reached the porch. Renright looked blank when Harry introduced

"You ought to remember me," laughed Harry "I was at the bachelor's party they gave Jim Dinsey that night at

Renright delivered an exclamation, as he thrust forth his hand. Harry received a powerful grip.

"You're a friend of Jim's?" queried Renright. "One of the California crowd I met that night?"

"I've just come East," returned Harry. "Jim told me to look you up. I called the Merrimac Club; they told me

"I used to be, but I'm seldom around Holmwood any longer. I'm living out at Narrowneck. I belong to a club

out there. How would you like to go along with me, Vincent? They're holding a shindig tonight. You can stop

"Great! I'm on a vacation. I've been aching to find somebody who knew Jim Dinsey. All of his friends seem

"Come along with me, then. I'll show you a good time. Wait until I check out of here."

Harry followed Renright into the club. At the desk, Renright obtained his key and spoke to the manager.

"I just applied for a gun permit," laughed Renright. "I think I'll join the ghost hunt. It's a break for me; I've

always wanted to have a revolver for target practice. This Gray Ghost business makes it easy to get one."

As soon as Renright was gone, Harry told the manager that he would check out later. He remarked that he

was going to Narrowneck with Renright; that if he did not return, he would send someone for his luggage and

When Renright returned, Harry met him. They strolled out together. Renright gained no inkling that Harry

had registered as a guest at the Holmwood Beach Club. Nor did he suppose that the coupe near his own

They entered Renright's car and drove away. Heading toward Narrowneck, Renright began to chat about Jim

Dinsey. Posted regarding their supposedly mutual friend, Harry kept up the conversation. Matters were

Of all persons who might be the Gray Ghost, Renright was the most eligible. From now on, Harry's lone task

It was dusk in Manhattan. City lights twinkled beneath increasing gloom. But in one secluded spot, complete

That was The Shadow's sanctum. A hidden abode somewhere in Manhattan, it was a place of utter blackness,

except when its master was present. Thick, Stygian gloom pervaded this mysterious room. It ended with the

A bluish light appeared suddenly, to shine its shaded beams upon a polished desk. Beneath those rays

Report sheets fluttered to the desk. Keen eyes began a study. Agents had done their work. Day was ended;

Besides contacting Harry Vincent, Rutledge Mann had held negotiations with Clyde Burke, another of The

Shadow's agents. Clyde was a newspaper reporter; he was an excellent man at making queries. Clyde was the

agent who had visited the Pennsylvania Station, to learn about Culden's shipment of the dog.

The man at the baggage room had supposed that Culden was Yenner. In course of conversation, he had given

Clyde a lead. Culden had sent a porter to the parcel room to obtain a checked package. When Culden had left,

Word of this had been relayed to The Shadow previously. He had ordered Clyde to another duty: inquiries at

taxi offices. Claiming to have lost a bundle like Culden's, Clyde had visited every cab company in the city.

One taxi driver had turned in a report. He had taken a passenger from the Pennsylvania Station to an address

just off Eighth Avenue. Driving away, the cabby had seen a large package in his cab. He had returned to the

The cab company was concerned about the matter, since it was possible that the package might be Clyde's.

Clyde had forestalled it by stating that he would prefer to go there himself and identify the package, if it

proved to be his own. Clyde, of course, expressed the possibility that the package might have remained in the

The Shadow was not surprised to learn of the package episode. The report concerning Culden had indicated

something quite definite. Before going out to Long Island, Culden had checked the package, intending to pick

it up after he shipped the dog. He had also planned to leave the package in the taxicab, that the driver might

Culden had extended his alibi. He had one more witness, should the pinch come: namely, the taxi driver. The

The Shadow finished with the reports. He clicked off the sanctum light. His present mission was to take up

the work where Clyde had left off. The Shadow was going to the house where Culden's cab trip had ended.

Settled darkness hid the path which The Shadow followed. An interval had passed when he appeared upon a

thronged sidewalk near Times Square. The Shadow was in the guise of Lamont Cranston. With leisurely

stroll, he approached a hack stand and entered a parked taxi. He gave a lowtoned order to the shrewdfaced

The cab wheeled away, bound for Culden's address. The man at the wheel was Moe Shrevnitz, one of the

speediest cab drivers in Manhattan. Moe's cab was an independent, uncontrolled by any company. Actually, it

was owned by The Shadow, who called the taxi into service on occasions such as this.

Moe sped northward on Eighth Avenue; he reached the designated street and turned left. He stopped abruptly,

a dozen houses from the corner. He was close to the required address. The Shadow alighted and made a

The Shadow observed the houses. They formed a row of oldfashioned residences that had known a better

past. Some had shuttered windows that betrayed their emptiness. Others were dwellings above basement store

The one which The Shadow sought had lighted windows. From its appearance, The Shadow decided that it

served as a boardinghouse. It did not look like an apartment building; there were too many lighted windows

Ascending a short flight of stone steps, The Shadow rang the doorbell. Soon the door opened; a bulky,

"Good evening," remarked The Shadow, in the quiet tone of Cranston. "I have called to see a gentleman

"Ah, yes, sir," replied the woman. "It's the new lodger you'd like to see. I had almost forgot his name, until

The Shadow was not surprised that Culden had given his right name. Probably he had counted upon the

landlady forgetting it. The woman was the type who would spend much time in housework, with little

opportunity to read the daily newspapers. It was policy for Culden to avoid an alias. He had evidently

gambled on the chance that the landlady would not connect his name with the one mentioned in the reports of

"A gentlemanly young man he is," asserted the woman, "and it's no surprise to me to find that he has friends

of the same sort. He's been in the house most always since he came here, excepting last night."

"'Twas then he went out for the first time," continued the woman. "He went away in the afternoon, but he

came in last night, sir, at quarter to nine sharp. It's nice to have a boarder that keeps early hours."

"It was a halfhour ago he went out," she declared. "'Twas a respectable young man who called and asked for

him. Not such a gentleman as yourself, sir, but a man who spoke pleasantlike, though he had his coat collar

"'Twas odd to see him wearing a coat," she continued, "with the weather mild as it is tonight. He talked with

Mr. Culden, quiet=like. 'Twas then that Mr. Culden said he would go out. He had nary hat nor overcoat, but

"I see." The Shadow nodded slowly. "Regarding this visitor he held his coat collar with his left hand; his

"Right you are, sir!" she exclaimed. "'Twas that very way he stood! Ah, I understand. He is a friend of yours,

"Not exactly," returned The Shadow, with a slight smile. Dropping his hands, he added: "When Mr. Culden

The Shadow stepped away from the door. The woman gawked, puzzled, then closed the door and went back

into the house. The Shadow paused at the foot of the stone steps. Deliberately he lighted a cigarette and

Culden had received a summons from the underworld. The caller had been a hoodlum, one of better

appearance than his pals, clever enough to put up a "front" that would bluff the landlady. He had come for

The muffling coat collar had been the man's move to cover his face against later recognition. The hand in the

pocket had held a gun. Culden had gone out with his supposed friend rather than receive a dose of bullets.

The Shadow could picture an automobile waiting farther down the street, ready to take Culden for a ride. The

secretary had known that he was "on the spot"; that the ride might be a oneway trip. Nevertheless, he had

It was late the next afternoon. Headlines had screamed the word of new crimes. The Gray Ghost had become

Last night, the police had gained a lead to Thomas Culden. They had gained the secretary's full name; they

had learned that he had been living at a boardinghouse near Eighth Avenue. But he had made a mysterious

Finally, there had been a new robbery on Long Island. An empty house had been entered; whether or not the

Reports told simply that the house had been left in disarray; the crime, itself, had been attributed to the

Crime, as a rule, caused no talk at the exclusive Cobalt Club, which boasted the most conservative

membership of any Manhattan group. Quiet usually persisted at the Cobalt Club; loud or excited discussions

were taboo. But on this particular day, the rule had been broken. Distinguishedlooking men were gathered

in little groups; their faces were long and troubled, their conversation heated.

Many of the club members were residents of Long Island. All were wealthy, otherwise they would not have

belonged to the Cobalt Club. They were persons who feared future raids by the Gray Ghost.

Police Commissioner Weston was a member of the Cobalt Club. He had arranged for gun permits for those

who lived on Long Island, including the ones outside the city limits. More than that, he had come to the club

Wordweary, Weston managed at last to break away from the final group. Tartly, he requested that no one

disturb him for the next halfhour. That courtesy conceded, Weston entered the grillroom to indulge in a

light meal. He saw a lone diner seated at a table and smiled in relief as he recognized Lamont Cranston.

"Jove, Cranston!" began the commissioner. "My head is in a whirl! It is great to meet someone who will not

"You made a mistake in coming here," remarked The Shadow. "You should have known that you would be

"It was policy to come. The members of the Cobalt Club are influential. I had to reassure them."

"This Gray Ghost business is not quite so complicated as you think, Cranston," declared the commissioner.

"We have begun to get at matters. Meanwhile, we have allowed the newspapers to speculate as much as they

The Shadow made no comment. Silence was the best encouragement for the commissioner. Weston was in no

"Regarding Culden," stated Weston, wisely. "He may not be the man we seek. We made inquiries at his

boardinghouse. We learned that he arrived there, two nights ago, at quarter of nine. I remember your

statements. Cranston, regarding the time element. If Culden reached the city at quarter of nine, he could not

"Of course, he could have murdered Windler. But so could the raider who entered Debrossler's. Therefore, we

have come to the conclusion that the capture of Culden may not mark the end of our quest. We feel quite sure

that the man knows something; his disappearance indicates it. Nevertheless, he may simply be a tool; not the

"I know your thoughts," declared the commissioner. "You are wondering about last night's events on Long

Island, where a closed house was entered. You are thinking that Culden might have been responsible for that

"Inspector Cardona has brought in a complete report. Apparently, several burglars were in the game last

night. Moreover, it seems that they drew a blank. Simply a stab in the dark; a band of criminals trying to

"We have a clue." Weston leaned across the table. "It is a good one. A man was seen on Long Island

yesterday afternoon; from the description given of him, he was uglyfaced and could have been a certain

"Working on this clue, Cardona was prepared. He found fingerprints on a windowpane at the Long Island

house. Those prints have been identified; they belong to Shanty Uhving. Our theory, therefore, is that a

criminal band has moved into the Gray Ghost's preserves. Culden may be the head of that crew.

"All this is confidential, Cranston. I merely thought that it would interest you, and enable you to realize how

The Shadow had finished his meal. He left the commissioner and strolled from the grillroom. Passing

The Shadow knew that Culden could not be the leader of any criminal band. The man had been forced to

leave his boardinghouse under threat. Culden was simply a tool who had served the Gray Ghost. Some

criminal, muscling in on the Gray Ghost's game, had snatched Culden and was holding him a prisoner,

Last night, the Gray Ghost had been idle. Weston was correct on that point. Today, The Shadow had received

a report from Harry Vincent. The agent had been with Renright at Narrowneck, all during the preceding

evening. Assuming that Renright was the Gray Ghost, this proved that the elusive lone wolf could not have

The Shadow wanted to find Culden. Unquestionably, Windler's secretary could tell facts. Thanks to one point

that Weston had divulged, The Shadow had a lead through which Culden could be found. The lead was

Shanty Uhving. Through that underling, The Shadow could uncover the new crook who had begun to

compete with the Gray Ghost. Once the Gray Ghost's rival was found, Culden could also be discovered.

The Shadow knew that Weston would proceed with a search for Shanty Uhving. The police would call upon

stool pigeons; they would use every effort to nail Shanty in a quiet way. That failing, they would stage a

roundup; probably tomorrow night. It would be The Shadow's task to move more rapidly than the law.

Stopping in a telephone booth, The Shadow made a call. A quiet voice responded; it was that of Burbank,

who served as a quick contact with active agents. The Shadow gave instructions. A search was to begin, with

He had heard of Shanty Uhving in the past. The fellow was a smallfry hoodlum who had dropped from

sight. In the past, Shanty had palled with another crook of his own caliber. That thug's name was Bump

Shanty Uhving would be in some hideout, if news had leaked that he was wanted. Bump Pannard, however,

would be at large in the criminal badlands. He could be located by a search through gangdom's domain.

Bump would probably produce a trail to Shanty; to the big shot whom Shanty served; then finally, to Culden.

A long trail, but one that would develop quickly if followed wisely. Thus The Shadow's search for Shanty

involved Bump as the first move. Capable agents would be on the job. Supporting them, The Shadow would

himself join the campaign. Harry was still with Renright at Narrowneck. The Shadow was free to press the

search for lesser crooks who were in Manhattan. Harry was capable of covering the supposed Gray Ghost.

Dusk had arrived. Manhattan was aglow. In certain quarters, however, gloominess persisted. Skulkers were

The grapevine, invisible telegraph of the underworld, had not yet substantiated rumors of a possible roundup.

Smallfry thugs felt at liberty to prowl the confines of the underworld. They numbered hundreds, those shifty

Among these denizens of scumland, there were others of a different ilk. They were agents of The Shadow a

chosen few who camouflaged themselves as rowdies and thereby roved at will. One was Cliff Marsland, a

squarejawed, hardfisted chap whom the underworld regarded as a man at odds with the law. There was

Moe Shrevnitz was present, also. He was covering the fringes of the badlands cruising in his cab, parking

and making visits to lesser dives frequented by hoodlums. All the while, Moe saw to it that he reached certain

Sometimes garbed in black; sometimes disguised as a sweatered hoodlum, the master sleuth was penetrating

deep into the realm where crooks gathered. The Shadow was covering a huge area on his own. He changed

his disguise at the times when he contacted Moe's cab. The Shadow was speeding the search for Bump

All during these hours of early evening, another agent was on duty elsewhere. Harry Vincent was lounging

about the premises of the Narrowneck Club, out on Long Island. He was the guest of Colin Renright. Harry

In his study of Renright, Harry had found the fellow to be a dynamic sort. Renright had many friends at the

Narrowneck Club, and they regarded him as a good fellow. Renright was a man of reserve; that was the chief

reason why he was likable. Yet Harry could not drop the conviction that beneath the surface, Renright might

possess a flaring disposition. Harry was of the opinion that Renright would prove dangerous if crossed.

Today's news of crime on Long Island had perplexed Harry. He still suspected that Renright might be the

Gray Ghost. After dinner, Harry had received a telephone call from Burbank, with the information that last

night's crime had not been the work of the Gray Ghost. Thus Harry's original conjecture was supported. The

fact that he had watched Renright last night and found the man guiltless did not prove anything to Renright's

Tonight, Renright had suggested a trip into Holmwood, to look up some friends. When Harry joined Renright

beside the latter's car, he noticed a bulge in the man's overcoat pocket. Harry guessed that Renright's

application for a gun permit had gone through; for the bulge indicated a revolver. Harry was carrying an

They drove into Holmwood. When they reached the club, Renright inquired after several friends. Gaining

"That's odd," asserted Renright. "They've all gone out to Narrowneck. We'll have to travel back there."

"No," replied Renright. "They've gone to a stag party at Tom Forbel's. A great chap, Forbel. He has plenty of

money and doesn't mind spending it. He has a flare for rare gems; we'll probably see some of them."

"Certainly. He keeps open house. I know him well; he'll be glad to see both of us."

Two persons entered the club as Harry and Renright were leaving. One was Pierce Gilden; the other was Jane

"Thanks, Pierce," he heard Jane say. "Awfully nice of you to take me into New York. Louise took one car

"It isn't," laughed Gilden. "Therefore, my car is at your disposal. But don't expect me to go to the concert

"So he's the fellow I heard about!" laughed Renright. "The one who tried to stop the Gray Ghost. I'd like to

"Rummaging through empty houses, according to the newspapers. No, Vincent, we can't count upon meeting

the Gray Ghost. Whoever he is, he's lost his nerve. Too many people gunning for him."

Renright tapped his pocket as he spoke, making it plain that he had a revolver there. Harry smiled, as they

stepped aboard the coupe. He agreed with Renright; there would be little chance of a meeting with the Gray

Ghost. But he did not believe that the daring crook was finished with open crime.

When they reached Forbel's, Harry decided, he would call Burbank; then proceed to keep a steady eye on

Though he did not foresee it. Harry was due for a huge surprise. But before that amazement would take place,

action in the case of the Gray Ghost would open up in the underworld of New York, where The Shadow's

The hoarse whisper came from the gloom of a darkened alleyway. It was Hawkeye who spoke. Cliff

"I've spotted Bump!" exclaimed Hawkeye. "Saw him in Doughboy Raddin's poolroom! You know the gang

The agents parted. Cliff headed for the poolroom, which was not far from the Bowery. He lost no time in

In fact, Cliff was lucky. When he entered the front door of the poolroom, he was just in time to encounter

Bump on the way out. Bump was a hardfaced customer, whose jaw looked as solid as a rock. His eyes were

beady, sullen; they darted quickly as Bump heard Cliff utter a greeting. Then Bump recognized the entrant.

Despite his noncommittal statement, Bump Pannard paused to find out what Cliff wanted. With a nudge of

"I'm getting a crew together," Cliff confided. "Maybe I could use a guy like you, Bump; and a couple of

"Nothing just yet. But there'll be something doing after I'm all set. There's lots of ways to use a bunch of

"Maybe. If I can find a big shot who can use the crew. But the way it stands right now, I'd take anything. I've

"No. That's one thing I don't have to worry about. But what good is it, if I'm doing nothing?"

Bump nodded. He was thinking about something. Cliff hoped for a reference to Shanty Uhving. He had

paved the way for Bump to mention a pal. But when Bump spoke, he brought a new twist to the conversation.

"How'd you like to step into something, Cliff?" queried the hardfaced thug. "Easier than what you got in

"There's another guy who'll have to do the talking. All I'm asking is, will you come in?"

Bump nudged toward the door; Cliff followed him. They reached the sidewalk. Bump signaled across the

street. A touring car, top raised, pulled from the opposite curb. There were two men in the front seat. Bump

Cliff showed no hesitation. He entered the touring car with Bump. They pulled away. Cliff glanced through

"Good dope, Cliff," approved Bump. He gave a glance of his own. "Yeah, I always take a squint to see if

It was Moe's cab. Cliff knew that the smart cabby had arrived in time to see him enter the touring car. But

Cliff's comment lulled Bump. The hoodlum gave no further thought to the trailing cab.

The course of the touring car was northwest. After a fifteenminute trip, the driver reached a side street that

showed little traffic. He found a parking space. Bump nudged Cliff and they alighted from the car. The other

men followed them. Bump led the way to the front of a small apartment building that was wedged between

Inside the small lobby, Bump picked a button on the name board. Cliff noted the apartment number: it was

D3, but there was no name in the space beside it. This space was one of many vacancies. Cliff slipped his

hand into his coat pocket. He performed a quick, but simple, operation while the hand remained in the pocket.

Cliff was carrying a pack of cigarette papers; also the stub of a softlead pencil. On the top sheet of the

cigarette papers, he marked "D3", then quickly twisted the paper into a little wad. He brought out a bag of

tobacco. Starting to roll a cigarette, he let the tiny wad of paper fall to the floor.

The door of the apartment house was buzzing. Bump clicked it open. Cliff and the others followed Bump.

They reached an automatic elevator; entered. Bump pressed the button for the third floor. Cliff was

continuing his action of rolling a cigarette. Just as he completed it, Bump remarked:

"Didn't guess it, did you?" laughed Bump. "You thought Dude was sticking to that flossy night club of his.

Well, he's still handling it as a side line, but he's got something bigger. You'll hear about it, Cliff."

The elevator had reached the third floor. The passengers stepped off and headed for Apartment D3.

Meanwhile, down in the entry, another arrival had come into view. It was Moe Shrevnitz. The cab driver had

Hawkeye had contacted Moe at a time when The Shadow was absent from the cab. Moe had headed for the

poolroom; he had taken up the trail on his own. He was taking a risk coming into the entry of this

apartment building, for Moe knew that there might be spies outside. Nevertheless, Moe was a good bluffer.

He had pulled a memo book from his pocket. Consulting it, he looked along the names on the wall board.

Picking one at random, Moe faked a pressure of the button. He waited, holding the receiver of the apartment

telephone. Again he pretended to press the button; this time, he dropped the little book. Apparently getting no

Stooping, he picked up his book and strode from the apartment house, faking the ire of a taxi driver who has

been summoned to an address, only to find that the person had already gone. Moe clambered aboard his cab,

As he turned the corner, Moe darted a glance back toward the apartment house. No one was on his trail. Moe

From between the pages of his little book, he drew the wadded cigarette paper. Moe had spied it on the floor.

He had picked it up with the book. Unfolding the wad, Moe read the simple message, "D3." He knew its

Up in the apartment house, Cliff Marsland had entered Apartment D3, to find a tall, longfaced man seated

in an easychair. Cliff knew Dude Cottran. The tall man came to his feet and gave him a hearty handshake.

"Good work, Bump! I hadn't figured you could land as swell a torpedo as Marsland. Have you slipped him

"All right." Dude turned to Cliff. "Sit down. I'll give you the inside. I've got a great racket, Marsland, if it

"Dude's got an outfit, Cliff," added Bump. "That's why I was going the rounds tonight. Linking up some

regulars. There weren't none down at Doughboy's, Dude. Only Cliff here; I run into him by accident."

"Marsland's as good as any there," decided Dude. "We don't want lugs in this outfit. There's four of you here;

Two downstairs. Cliff was ready to hazard a guess that one would be Shanty Uhving. He hoped that Dude

would call the wanted thug upstairs. Dude decided upon a plan that was even more to Cliff's liking.

"Want me to stay here, Dude?" queried Bump. "So's to have a lookout, just in case?"

"What's the good?" demanded Dude. "Nobody knows that this joint is mine. Come on, we'll all go down."

They left the apartment. Dude locked the door and the quintet entered the automatic elevator. Dude pressed a

button marked "B"; the descent ended when they reached the basement. There, Dude led the way toward a

A squinteyed thug opened the door for them. Entering the lighted locker room, Cliff saw a door beyond.

Dude rapped at the inner door. It opened. Cliff saw another rowdy, whom he recognized. He was the man

who was a factor in the trail that Cliff had sought: Bump Pannard's pal, Shanty Uhving.

Shanty knew Cliff. He grinned and waved a greeting. He stepped aside; Dude motioned Cliff into the inner

locker room. The others followed in a group. Dude pointed to a corner, where Cliff saw a pitiful, huddled

Cliff shook his head. Dude stooped and raised the prisoner's head. He loosened the gag so Cliff could see the

"Didn't think you'd know him," snorted Dude. "He don't count for much. But he's a guy that we'll get plenty

out of. I'll tell you who he is, Cliff. The guy's name is Culden. He's the boob that the cops think is the Gray

Dude's henchmen joined in a raucous laugh. The guffaws pleased Cliff Marsland. Pokerfaced, The Shadow's

agent was covering the elation that he secretly felt. Cliff had served The Shadow well.

Thanks to keen headwork with Bump Pannard, Cliff had found the trail to Shanty Uhving. With Shanty he

Dude Cottran gave the order. Bump and Shanty ripped the gag from Culden's mouth. Cliff saw a sallow face,

"Here's the dope, Marsland." Dude had turned to Cliff. "This guy Culden was working for the Gray Ghost. I

got wise to it. I'll give you the lowdown. It started along about the time when the Gray Ghost first got busy.

"Culden here worked for old man Windler. Used to come into town nights and spend dough at my night club.

He owed me money, Culden did, and a week ago he came around to tell me he was pretty near broke. Said

"I'll have the money for you!" panted Culden. "Honest, Dude, if you'll let me out of here "

"Shut up, you doublecrosser!" snarled Dude. Culden silenced. Then, to Cliff, Dude added: "I asked Culden

where the cash was coming from. He let it slip that he was in with the Gray Ghost. That listened good."

"I saw a chance," he resumed. "A good one. The Gray Ghost was getting plenty of swag. I figured I could try

his racket. So I got an outfit together and waited. I wanted to make sure that Culden wasn't passing out

hokum. When Windler took the bump and the Gray Ghost grabbed Debrossler's hundred grand, I figured I'd

"I missed on the Debrossler job, but I knew there'd be others. That's why I grabbed Culden. I was the guy that

went around to his boardinghouse and talked him into taking a ride. We brought him here; I left Bump and

"I had Shanty Uhving out on Long Island, looking over the ground. Yesterday, he called in to tell me about a

big house out there; an empty joint that belonged to some people named Robertson.

"When I got Culden here, I asked him about the Robertsons. He said they had dough, but that was all he

knew. So I went out with a couple of fellows and we met Shanty. We got into the Robertson house, but didn't

land anything worth while. We left it as we found it. Figured the cops would lay it on the Gray Ghost."

"Did they?" he queried. "Maybe, Shanty, and maybe not. You left a trail a mile wide while you were out

Dude paused. He turned to Cliff. He stated: "We've got to make this fellow Culden talk."

"Honest!" he wailed. "I don't know who the Gray Ghost is! He made the deal with me by telephone. He

wanted to know if there was any swag at Windler's. That's when I told him that there would be money at

"Cut it!" snapped Dude. "We're wise to the way the Gray Ghost works. He wouldn't have stooges all over

Long Island. He'd use one guy to hand him the lowdown on a lot of places. You're the one he used, Culden."

"Maybe," decided Dude, "if he won't talk any other way. Look here, Culden. Give us the lowdown on the

Gray Ghost. We'll get rid of him if he makes trouble. Let us in on the next jobs. You'll get your cut, as good

"I only knew about Debrossler," panted Culden. "I only learned that by accident. How can I tell you what I

"Cut the stall!" growled Dude, savagely. "You heard what Bump said about the heat. He and Shanty know

how to give it. If you want it, Culden, you'll have it! But remember you asked for it."

Culden's whines were incoherent. Cliff studied the cowering man, then turned to Dude.

"Slide out to the other room," he suggested, in an undertone. "Leave Culden here alone. I've got an idea."

Dude nodded. He ordered the others to move to the outer locker room. Dude and Cliff came last, Dude shut

"There's a better way to handle Culden," declared Cliff. "Maybe he knows the Gray Ghost and maybe he

doesn't. In either case, he knows that the Gray Ghost can get away with plenty."

"Maybe he figures the Gray Ghost is big enough to blow in here," persisted Cliff. "If Culden figures that way,

"Maybe not. But there's a better system. Get him to think that the Gray Ghost knows he's here."

"I can swing it. He's seen the rest of you before. I'm a newcomer. Maybe Culden will fall for my bluff."

"I'll go in there alone," suggested Cliff. "Leave the door open while I begin to act tough. When I motion you

Dude unlocked the door. He and Cliff entered. The Shadow's agent surveyed Culden. The prisoner looked up

and shifted. Cliff's glare was unpleasant. Culden was troubled at sight of this new inquisitor.

"You'll do some talking," prophesied Cliff, in a growl. "You're yellow, Culden! You won't need any heat.

You squawked to the Gray Ghost about Windler and Debrossler. You'll squawk to me about the Gray Ghost."

Cliff was stooping, his face thrust forward. Culden had winced; he was compressing his lips tightly.

He motioned to Dude. The big shot stepped into the outer locker room and closed the door behind him. He

"Cliff's the guy to swing it," informed Dude. "We won't need the heat. Wait and see."

Upstairs, another door had closed. It was the outer door of the apartment house. The Shadow had entered.

From the gloom beside the door, he had easily forced the latch. In the dull light of the firstfloor hall, The

The Shadow pressed the button that brought the elevator to the ground floor. He saw its lights come upward

beyond the glass panes of the door. The Shadow entered the car and pressed the thirdfloor button.

On the third floor, he approached the door of Apartment D3. Close against the door, he listened intently.

There were no sounds from within. The Shadow went to the rear of the hall; he opened a window and peered

A dull light showed a window of Dude Cottran's apartment. The rail of a fire escape offered a starting point.

Mounting the rail, The Shadow stretched along the brick wall. Suddenly, his form began to sway downward.

The Shadow's right toe hooked beneath the rail. His left arm, swinging wide, clutched the window ledge as

his falling body reached it. The stretch was a long one, but it was not too great. Poised horizontally between

rail and window, The Shadow gained a higher grip with his right hand. He let his legs swing from the rail.

Swaying like a living pendulum, The Shadow hung above the solid darkness. Pressing the partly opened

window sash, he forced it higher, then drew his body into an inner room of the apartment. Swinging to his

feet, The Shadow was ready for any chance lookout who might still be on hand. His fist clutched an

The weapon was not needed. Inspection told The Shadow that the apartment was empty. Herein, Cliff had

gained no opportunity to tell The Shadow where his next location would be. Cliff had not been able to risk a

From reports, The Shadow had divined that Cliff had gained the confidence of Bump Pannard. That meant

that he would also be acceptable to Shanty Uhving. Moe had seen Cliff with the men from the touring car. All

Accepted by both Bump and Shanty, Cliff would also be well received by the big shot whom that pair served.

In the apartment, The Shadow discovered a cigarette case with the initial "C"; he also found paper match

packs from the night club that Dude Cottran owned. The Shadow easily fixed the identity of the man whom

As The Shadow finished his search, he stopped by the outer door of the apartment. In the mellow glow of

floor lamps, he became a weirdshaped visitant. The wall caught the shaded shape of a hawklike silhouette.

The Shadow's laugh was foreboding. The Shadow could foresee trouble for Cliff, if the latter found Culden.

Cliff would be confronted with a dilemma: the task of making Culden talk without letting Dude gain the facts

Though Cliff had left a message for Moe at the door of the apartment house, the process had not been

repeated here. There was not a clue in Dude's apartment to guide The Shadow to Cliff's present location. Yet,

wherever he might be, Cliff would find the ground dangerous. His need for aid could be urgent.

The Shadow was right. Cliff was faced with trouble. Cliff, himself, was realizing it, as he talked to Culden.

He had chosen a course that brought immediate results, but promised subsequent difficulties.

Cliff spoke the words emphatically, as he crouched on the floor beside the prisoner. He added:

Culden looked up from the stone floor. The single light of the inner locker room showed an eager look in the

prisoner's eyes. Dude Cottran had known nothing about the alibi. Culden was half convinced that Cliff was

"You brought Yenner's dog in from Holmwood," whispered Cliff. "It gave you an alibi to cover the time that

the Gray Ghost was working at Windler's and Debrossler's. I'm here to get you out of a jam, Culden."

"I didn't have time to find out how much you know," added Cliff. "I got the word over the telephone from the

"I've never seen the Gray Ghost," responded Culden, in a hoarse whisper. "If you know who he is, don't tell

"But it would be a setup," protested Culden. "I was out at Forbel's once; I saw his place at Narrowneck. Mr.

"I know," agreed Cliff, "but the Gray Ghost wasn't sure about you, Culden. He wanted to make sure you

hadn't talked. Well, since you haven't, the job is for me to get you out of here."

"I think so. I'll tell Dude that I'm taking you along with me. So as to get your confidence. I'll tip him off to

"Don't worry." Cliff was loosening Culden's bonds. "There'll be somebody else to pick up Dude's trail. Come

on, Culden. Act like you're a bit squeamish; as if you didn't know whether or not to trust me."

Cliff helped the unbound prisoner to his feet. Culden staggered, cramped. He managed to brace himself

against the wall. He stretched wearily, and Cliff helped him falter toward the door. When they stopped there,

Cliff waited a few moments, then opened the door and helped Culden into the outer room.

Dude and the crowd were waiting. Cliff saw Bump and Shanty spring forward, each from a different side. He

"This fellow's all right," declared Cliff, indicating Culden. "You just had him jittery, Dude. The Windler job

was all he did for the Gray Ghost. He was afraid you had him slated for the spot. I told him he was all

"Get me a buggy," said Cliff. "Culden and I are going out to Long Island. Maybe he'll be able to remember a

"Like the dog, huh?" he questioned. "And this job that the Gray Ghost had slated for tonight? At Forbel's,

"I was listening in," snarled Dude. "See those boxes? I was on top of them, with my ear to the ventilator,

"You've queered it, Dude," he asserted. "I bluffed Culden, and you're dumb enough to think I was passing

"Yeah?" Dude snarled, viciously. His men had closed in about Cliff, ready with prodding revolvers. "Sure I

"Maybe you did. But you started the talk about that dog. Culden knew what you were talking about, as soon

There was no way out. Cliff knew that denials would be useless. Dude had listened in too early. It was plain

that Cliff had known facts about Culden. Dude pictured Cliff as a henchman of the Gray Ghost. To disprove

that belief, Cliff would have to announce himself as an agent of The Shadow. That would mean certain death.

Dude had yanked a revolver of his own. Six guns, in all, were covering Cliff and Culden. Dude jabbed

There was still a chance for life. Cliff recognized the fact as he followed Dude's command. Dude was in a

class with Culden. Dude thought that both of them knew more about the Gray Ghost. Perhaps Culden did.

That was something that Cliff had hoped to uncover. But Cliff knew that his own knowledge had been

practically exhausted. He knew that Harry Vincent was covering a man named Colin Renright, but proof had

Thus Cliff had no opportunity for further bluff. In fact, he could not mention Renright, even to stall for his

own life. That would be passing danger on to Harry, blocking The Shadow's further plans. Cliff eyed the ugly

faces of Bump and Shanty. Torture would be their specialty. They could give the heat. But Cliff was

"Maybe we'll let you mugs live a while," announced Dude, in a tone that had become a purr. "We'll mooch in

Cliff gained a hunch from Dude's smoothness. The big shot was trying to press his victims back into the inner

room, by giving them a soft promise. Cliff could see a reason for Dude's policy. He wanted the victims as

deep into the cellar as possible, so that the noise of gunfire would not be heard.

Culden was already cowering back into his former prison. Cliff was on the threshold. A few steps backward,

then would come a surge from Dude and the crew. Murder would be done within the closed door of the inner

Dude had learned enough. He was ready to eliminate his victims on the strength of the one lead that he had

Cliff still had his automatic in his pocket. Dude had considered it unnecessary to frisk him, because of the

overweight of numbers. His shoulder against the flimsy door of the inner room, Cliff decided upon quick

action. His right hand, half raised, was beside the door. The fact that the barrier opened inward was to Cliff's

With a sudden twist, Cliff grabbed the door and slammed it squarely into the faces of his captors. One man

Shanty was quick enough to meet it with his shoulder. Yanking his gun with his right hand, Cliff hurled his

Cliff failed. Shanty had wedged a revolver between the door and the frame. Others drove from the far side.

The door lifted clear from its hinges. Cliff was propelled across the room, flattening beside Culden, who had

The best that Cliff could hope for was an exchange of shots, a chance to wing one or two of his adversaries

while the band was shooting him down. Cliff was rising to gain aim. So were the foemen who had sprawled

In that instant, there came a muffled gunshot from the door of the outer locker room. Where a lock had been,

a hole gaped; from it curled a wreath of smoke. A powerful jolt, and the outer door flung inward. Crooks had

All recognized the figure on the threshold. It was The Shadow. Arriving at the outer locker room, he had shot

Cliff could not guess how The Shadow had found the hideout. He had realized previously that he had made

an error in leaving no clue. None, however, had been necessary. The Shadow had pieced facts, to learn where

When he had first pressed the button for the automatic elevator, The Shadow had seen through the glass

elevator door the car come up from the basement. The Shadow knew that passengers had gone below. He also

knew that he had arrived soon after Cliff, for Moe's relayed call had reached him promptly.

Finding Dude's apartment empty and unguarded, The Shadow had logically assumed that the occupants were

the ones who had taken the car to the basement. Descending, he had seen the closed locker room as the only

possible hiding place. He had reached the outer door, to hear tumult from within.

Sight of The Shadow caused crooks to wheel. One alone remembered Cliff. That was Shanty, the first

through the door. Shanty made a grab for Cliff, striking at him with a revolver. Cliff grappled; they

Five guns had swung toward The Shadow. The crooks were belated in their aim, but they had luck. The

Shadow, swinging in from the outer door, had twisted quickly to one side. He was stumbling as he struck a

The cloaked fighter made up for it. As he swung his automatics, he leaped forward across the short space that

lay between him and his enemies. Instinctively, crooks jumped to stop him. Gun arms swung, weapons

He had an objective that the crooks did not guess. The Shadow was trying to turn the battle outward; to carry

it away from the inner room, where Cliff was fighting Shanty. Guns boomed amid the fracas. It was then that

Grabbing the nearest of the flaying arms, he hauled one crook from the crowd. Rolling sidewise, The Shadow

dropped to the floor, while revolvers fired above him. Jabbing a .45 above the shoulder of the man whom he

had thrown, The Shadow spurted quick shots into the massed crew beyond. One thug wavered; another

There was an instant's lull, then a muffled shot from the inner locker room. A body thudded; Cliff Marsland

Dude Cottran was nearest to the outer door. He uttered a wild yell. Henchmen turned and followed him in

flight. There were only two who could respond. One was Bump Pannard; the other was the squinteyed

crook called Herb. He was the one whom The Shadow had wounded; his legs, however, were still able to

Shanty Uhving lay in the inner room. Two thugs were flat upon the spot from which The Shadow arose. One

was the crook whom he had first seized, the hoodlum was dead from bullets delivered by his pals. The other,

Before The Shadow or Cliff could aim for the scudding figures of Dude and his two followers, a

wildscreaming man came rocketing from the inner room. It was Culden; the gunfire had driven him berserk.

Deserting his safe corner, he was dashing close on the heels of the very men who had sought his life.

Worst of all, he came between The Shadow and the outer door. The Shadow lost a chance to drop Bump

Pannard. Cliff fired, but his shot was hasty. Crooks were dashing for a stairway, Culden with them. The

The Shadow was the first to reach the steps, which were past a projecting corner. As he reached the turn, a

shot sounded. A figure came tumbling downward. It was Culden; he had been recognized by the men with

whom he fled. Beyond the sprawling, lifeless body, The Shadow saw the murderer. Dude Cottran had

Dude saw The Shadow. His gun already lifted, the big shot started a fusillade toward the bottom of the steps.

Timed with Dude's opening came The Shadow's response. Two quick shots staggered Dude. Dude's revolver

wabbled, as he tugged the trigger. The gun left his useless grip; with a coughed gasp, the murderer tottered

forward and came rolling, bouncing, to twist crazily across the body of Culden. Victim and killer had found

Springing across the fallen bodies, The Shadow headed up the stairs with Cliff at his heels. In the hallway,

The Shadow stopped. Guns were sounding from the front street. He saw a stumbling man do a dive in the

entry beyond the glasspaned front door. It was Bump Pannard. More shots told that Herb was going the

The first shot below must have been heard. A report had gone in; the police had acted with promptitude. It

was too soon, however, for a cordon to have closed. The Shadow motioned Cliff to a rear exit from the hall.

They reached darkness; there, as The Shadow weaved a departing course, Cliff gave the news that Culden

Soon afterward, a coupe was speeding across the Williamsburg Bridge, en route to Narrowneck, Long Island.

At the wheel was The Shadow, a shrouded, almost invisible driver. Beside him was Cliff Marsland.

Dude Cottran and his crew had been eliminated. The Gray Ghost had no rivals. One clue alone remained

While The Shadow was finding battle in Manhattan, Harry Vincent was stationed amid quiet surroundings.

That Forbel was a millionaire, no one could doubt. The magnificence of his home displayed the fact. The

place was a mansion that dominated a large stretch of ground on the very shore of Long Island Sound. The

The ground floor held at least a dozen rooms centering upon a mammoth hallway, with a special cloakroom

at the back, beyond a grand stairway. The floors were literally paved with Oriental rugs, themselves worth a

Forbel's living room was the size of a small ballroom. It was used for informal gatherings only. Harry heard

mention of the fact that the reception room, on the other side of the house, was twice the size of the living

The living room had many windows. At one side were two French windows, spaced far apart, that opened to

a side veranda. The room itself was so large that the gathered guests made a very small cluster in the corner

Forbel, himself, was a genial man of small build, but energetic. He was middleaged, his head was rotund

and slightly bald. He wore largerimmed spectacles, but his eyes were sharp. He studied each guest keenly.

Two flunkies were serving refreshments when Harry and Renright arrived. The living room was filled with

cigar smoke, puffed from the heavy Havana perfectos that Forbel had provided for his guests. Forbel greeted

Renright cheerily; and seemed pleased to make Harry's acquaintance. Then, counting the number of the

"Make yourselves at home, gentlemen," said Forbel. "Very shortly, I shall have a treat for you. During my

last trip to the Orient, I brought back a collection of rare gems. They were once the property of a spendthrift

"Some of the guests have expressed a desire to see my picture gallery. It is scarcely worth a visit, for I have

donated most of my best paintings to various museums. However, there are some items that may be of

"Therefore, I suggest that we visit the gallery first and make the trip a brief one. After that, I shall display the

A few of the guests decided to accompany Forbel. Harry was undecided; he had started a conversation with a

man beside him. Since that guest retained his chair, Harry did the same. The other man remarked:

"Forbel is right. Most of his best paintings are gone. It is better to wait until he comes back. The gems will be

"In this room," replied the guest. "He has a wall safe that is just about burglar proof."

Harry decided that it was best to remain in the living room. He looked about for Renright; the man was

missing. He had gone along with the group to the picture gallery. Nevertheless, the information about the

Watching Renright was his job but for a specific purpose; namely, to learn if Renright happened to be the

Gray Ghost. Should Renright be planning crime, his objective would be the jewels. Since they were here, this

Harry continued his conversation. It was twenty minutes before Forbel returned, followed by stragglers who

had evidently lost their way about while returning from the gallery. Harry saw Renright enter, nodding to

Harry expected to see Forbel go to the wall safe, wherever it might be. Instead, the bespectacled millionaire

proceeded with another announcement. He looked like a master of ceremonies, for while his guests had come

"Gentlemen," stated Forbel, "we have talk of a criminal who styles himself the Gray Ghost. I have been

"Not a definite warning," he said, in a modifying tone. "Merely a logical assumption on the part of certain

friends. Since the Gray Ghost seeks wealth, he would naturally wish my gems. It is known that I have them

"However, I am quite prepared for the Gray Ghost. My valet, Hembroke, is outside the house. He has three

other servants at his call. All are armed with rifles. As for myself, I keep a loaded revolver in my study desk.

Forbel produced the weapon in question, drawing it from the pocket of his Tuxedo. He smiled as he studied

"I have heard," remarked Forbel, "that quite a few residents of Long Island have obtained permits to carry

"Ah, Wilbersham!" He bowed to a tall, stoopshouldered man. "And you, Greaves!" this was to a stocky

individual. "You have your revolvers with you? I should be pleased to have you act as vigilantes, along with

"Greaves and I came together," returned Wilbersham. "We decided to leave our guns with our overcoats.

"Procure them at once," ordered Forbel. "What? Are there no others? Ah, Renright, I am glad that you are

"I have the reputation," smiled Renright, producing his revolver from his pocket. "Furthermore, Forbel, I

make it a practice to keep my gun in my own possession. I transferred this revolver to my hip pocket, when I

Renright aimed the gun at a lamp bracket on the, other side of the room. Harry noted that he picked a spot

away from any persons, the first sign of a good marksman when practicing aim. The weapon was a police

"Bring on the Gray Ghost," laughed Renright, lowering the revolver and placing it in his coat pocket. "Here

"With their side pockets bulging," added the millionaire, putting away his own gun. "Very well. Keep posted,

gentlemen. I might remind you, however" his tone took on a mock seriousness "that the Gray Ghost is

reputed to be a spectral personage. They say that he is a living wraith; that he bears a charm over weapons.

Hearty laughter followed the jest. Forbel smiled himself; then went to a corner of the living room. He placed

his hands upon a panel and pressed at different corners. The panel swung open, showing a safe within.

"I shall have my own revolver ready," decided Forbel, drawing the gun. "Fortunately, I can manipulate this

Wilbersham and Greaves produced their guns. Harry noted that the two were nervous. A tenseness had

settled. Renright was smiling; with a shrug of his shoulders, he lowered his hand to his coat pocket, ready to

Harry let his right hand slide to his hip. He had said nothing about the gun which he was carrying partly

because of Renright, also because he was a comparative stranger to the other guests. It was his turn to be

The door of the safe came open. With his left hand, Forbel removed a large jewel box and brought it toward

the light. A slight creaking sound came as the millionaire approached the others. Harry attributed it to a board

in the floor; he did not realize until afterward that the heavy rugs would have muffled such a sound.

It was Forbel who realized that something had happened. He was facing the others; he looked toward the

group, then beyond. A horrified startlement swept the millionaire's features. Men stared in the direction of his

The nearest of the French windows had opened. Just past the range of guests, stood an intruder. Tall, he was

clad in garments of gray that made him appear lithe. Trousers, shirt, both were of a jersey material.

Over his head extended a hood of the same dark gray. Eyes peered through slits. A snarl issued from the

man's masked mouth. His hands were gloved in a fashion, by mittenlike extensions of the jersey sleeves. In

Gasps greeted the masked marauder. Though a dozen men thronged Forbel's living room, a helplessness had

seized them. The Gray Ghost stepped toward the table where Forbel stood. His hand was moving back and

forth, almost carelessly. For a moment, the revolver muzzle hesitated, pointing away from Forbel.

The millionaire acted. His revolver was almost at aim. Leveling it quickly, Forbel gave a fierce cry and

The Gray Ghost laughed harshly. Forbel gaped, as the robber looked in his direction. Wilbersham and

Greaves had aimed, seeing their chance to fire. Simultaneously, they pulled revolver triggers. New clicks

Somehow, the Gray Ghost had entered this house beforehand. He had found Forbel's revolver; also those of

the guests. He had removed the cartridges. Such was Harry's verdict, as he saw the Gray Ghost clamp his free

The lid clicked open. Rare gems in curious mountings made a dazzling sight, but the glitter did not last. The

Gray Ghost slammed the lid. Snarling a vicious laugh, he backed toward the door to the porch, steady with

Near the door, he paused to deliver a final harsh jeer. It was then that Renright sprang to sudden challenge.

Renright had not drawn his gun, nor had Harry. Both had been caught off guard. They were too close for

comfort when the Gray Ghost had approached the table. Renright, however, had managed to shift slightly; to

Jabbing the weapon toward the Gray Ghost, Renright fired. This was no click; the bark of the revolver was

ferocious as flame spat from the muzzle. With each recoil of his wrist, Renright delivered another shot four

in quick succession, while the Gray Ghost watched him. Renright stopped after the fourth shot, his eyes wide

Straight though Renright's aim had been, the Gray Ghost stood unharmed. The snarl that he uttered was one

of derision. To every brain came Forbel's jest: the rumor that the Gray Ghost was immune to bullets.

Leering toward Renright, who stood with smoking revolver motionless, the Gray Ghost snorted a contempt

that made his whole body shake. Coolly, he raised the side of his jersey and thrust the flat jewel box beneath.

One hand free, he tightened his hood and delivered a profound bow to those who stood within the room.

That done, the Gray Ghost stepped back, half through the French window. His spectral powers proven, the

The Gray Ghost had played his cards well. His deliberate departure was the best of his varied strokes. It was a

move that bid fair to hold men dumfounded. Renright, with his smoking revolver, stood stunned. Others,

There was one, however, who still stood ready to challenge the Gray Ghost's triumph. This man was Harry

Vincent, still waiting opportunity to whip forth his own gun. Harry gained the opportunity at that moment

Shifting to the right, Harry hid his right hand; with a quick move, he wheeled to the left, uttering a shout to

draw the Gray Ghost's attention. He wanted the Gray Ghost's attention. He wanted the marauder to aim for

him, not for the others. With his swing, Harry was bringing his automatic squarely to aim. He had gained a

The Gray Ghost heard the shout. His own gun was half lowered. He saw the leveled muzzle of Harry's pistol.

With a sharp cry, the Gray Ghost changed tactics. He leaped for the porch and dived for safety. He was gone

In fact, The Shadow's agent was too astonished to fire. Renright, chagrined at his previous defeat, was the

man who came to action. Remembering that he had two more cartridges, Renright fired furiously. One bullet

shattered a pane of the French window. The other ripped woodwork from the door frame.

As Renright's next trigger stroke clicked a dead cartridge, Harry bounded toward the window that the Gray

Ghost had left. Reaching the porch, he aimed blankly into the dark and fired two shots in the direction that he

Already, shouts were sounding near the house. Hembroke and the other watchers had heard the gunfire and

were coming up with their flashlights. Forbel had reached Harry. The millionaire shouted instructions to his

"It's the Gray Ghost!" howled Forbel. "He's seized the jewels! Find him get him "

A flashlight swung upon the lawn. It was Hembroke's. The valet gave a shout, as a jerseyed man leaped from

behind a tree. Harry aimed for the Gray Ghost and fired; the range was too great to hit the leaping target. The

The valet's cry stifled; the flashlight hit the lawn. As the Gray Ghost dashed for the front driveway, Harry

Moreover, the killer was darting to a getaway. The path to the front was clear. Harry leaped to the lawn to

take up a futile chase. Enraged men came with him, pellmell, maddened in their desire to overtake the Gray

Suddenly, a glare swept in from the roadway that ran along the land side of Forbel's property. A car was

swinging into the drive. Its headlights showed the Gray Ghost coming headon. A searchlight clicked; the

The arriving car was a coupe. From its interior came a challenging laugh a cry of sardonic mockery that

startled the already bewildered men at Forbel's. Those near Harry stopped, rooted by the taunt, their thoughts

The Gray Ghost had gained the speed of a wild rabbit. Frantically, he dived beyond the circle of the

searchlight. An instant later, tongues of flame jabbed through the darkness: The Shadow had dropped from

the coupe. He had fired to halt the fleeing killer. The Gray Ghost had departed an instant too soon.

Those shots brought new action from men nearer the house. A porch light came on; Harry doubled toward it,

to reach the corner of the house beyond which the Gray Ghost had headed. Renright came bounding from the

porch to join Harry. He was brandishing his .38, which Harry knew he must have reloaded. Harry was glad of

this ally, for he had gained proof tonight that Renright was not the Gray Ghost.

Odd that Harry and the man whom he had watched should both be on the trail of the real Gray Ghost!

The thought struck Harry as he and Renright hustled ahead, shoulder to shoulder, each with a ready gun. The

Gray Ghost was a fugitive; his capture seemed certain, for the lawn was alive with men. It was a freak of

Off past the house, at an angle toward the Sound, was a garage. The Gray Ghost had headed somewhere in

that direction. The garage had become a focal point at which pursuers from the house would join with The

Shadow and Cliff Marsland, who were coming from the coupe. The Shadow had gained in the chase. He was

Someone in the garage turned on a searchlight. Mammoth rays spread over the lawn. They did not uncover

the Gray Ghost. A trapped quarry, he had huddled by some shrubbery in between. But the glow revealed The

Instantly, there was a cry from the corner of the house. Two of Forbel's servants spied the cloaked figure.

They had not seen the Gray Ghost, nor had they glimpsed The Shadow when he had fired from the darkness

near the coupe. Knowing only that they sought some stranger of the darkness, the servants aimed their rifles

The long guns crackled. Bullets sizzled past The Shadow, as he stood clearly outlined. Renright, too, became

excited. He and Harry were close to The Shadow. Before Harry could stop him, Renright aimed to fire,

Harry sprang forward, too excited to deliver a cry. He jostled Renright as the man fired. Renright's shot went

wide. Then came a blast of an automatic. The Shadow had aimed for the searchlight. There was a clatter of

There were shouts in the darkness. Flashlights played feebly toward the spot where The Shadow had been.

The figure in black was gone; to avoid the congregating searchers, The Shadow was forced to travel beyond

A new searchlight came into action. This one was from the house. Forbel had run in to operate it from the

The new glow revealed the real quarry. The Gray Ghost leaped from his hiding place and dashed across the

lawn. He took the only opening that offered directly down the searchlight's path which formed a brilliant,

New cries from the pursuers. Again the chase was on, but it had assumed its original aspect. The Gray Ghost

had gained a lead that could not be overtaken. Renright was running straight after him, followed by a pack of

yelling men. Harry cut away, choosing a short cut toward a tiny promontory. He soon realized his mistake.

The ground that he had chosen was cut off from a curving headland by a little cove. Harry stopped upon a

rocky edge. He heard a hissed whisper close beside him. The Shadow, cutting in from the direction of the

garage, had encountered the same difficulty as Harry. They could only stare across the cove, where the Gray

The distant edge of the searchlight's beam showed the Gray Ghost as he leaped. Off the end of the wharf. He

made no dive; his spring was clumsy. Floundering, he began to swim in hurried, frantic fashion, making little

Renright and others were almost to the pier. Increasing his speed through greater effort, the Gray Ghost

A motor chugged. A small anchor came up as the Gray Ghost tugged a rope. The boat spurted away as

Renright halted on the end of the pier. The Shadow and Harry saw Renright fire futile shots. Then the boat

had disappeared into darkness, while servants barked futile bullets from their rifles.

Cliff had arrived in the darkness. He had started toward the pier too late to aid. Because of that, he had come

along the shore, hoping to find Harry or The Shadow. He, too, had seen the Gray Ghost's final escape.

Amid the fading echoes of the distant motorboat, Harry told The Shadow of happenings at Forbel's, prior to

The Shadow's arrival. His account was brief, but accurate in every detail. There were no faint chugs,

however, when Harry had finished. The Gray Ghost had made good his flight across the nightcapped waters

Renright and others were working with a lumbering motorboat that was tied beside the pier, evidently hoping

to pursue the light, speedy craft in which the Gray Ghost had escaped. They could not get the old boat started.

In the darkness of the promontory, The Shadow whispered an order. Followed by his agents, he moved across

the darkened, deserted lawn. Harry entered the path of the searchlight, to head for the house. There were a

Cutting close to the house, under the searchlight's beam, The Shadow and Cliff used darkness to reach their

coupe. Cliff had extinguished the lights before following The Shadow. They entered the car in darkness. The

Shadow coasted it along a slight slant of the driveway. The motor throbbed suddenly; the lights came on and

Unnoticed by those who were busy elsewhere, The Shadow was making his departure. He had failed to halt

the Gray Ghost tonight. Culden's tipoff to crime scheduled at Forbel's had given The Shadow an

opportunity, but the Gray Ghost had made his raid too soon. Harry Vincent's cooperation had been timely, but

Luck, too, had been against The Shadow, while it had served the Gray Ghost. Cliff, solemn as he sat beside

The Shadow, could still visualize the Gray Ghost floundering through the water in that mad effort to reach the

moored motorboat. Cliff wished that he had been close enough to clip the rogue with a pistol shot.

While Cliff was still engaged in rueful reverie, a whispered laugh chilled him. The mirth was close beside

him, delivered by The Shadow. To Cliff, the lowtoned mockery had a strange significance. It carried a

Though he had not stopped the Gray Ghost, The Shadow had solved some mystery regarding the supercrook.

The Shadow's laugh concerned the future. It brought new confidence to Cliff. He could guess that The

The depths of the Gray Ghost's schemes were plain to The Shadow. When the next encounter came, The

The question was everywhere. Newspapers asked it. The police sought the answer to the riddle. The matter

remained unsolved. It was known only that the Gray Ghost was both a robber and a double murderer, for he

The Gray Ghost's crimes had temporarily ceased. The last trace of the marauder had been the finding of the

little speed boat on the shore of Long Island Sound, a few miles from Forbel's. The Gray Ghost had made an

obscure landing and had continued his flight in some other fashion. The boat, itself, belonged to Forbel. It

Two days had passed since the crime at Forbel's. Harry Vincent was back in New York, at his usual city

residence, the Hotel Metrolite. Like others, he was perplexed regarding the Gray Ghost, but he could see the

reason why no new raids had occurred. With Forbel's jewels, the Gray Ghost had stolen the last real swag that

Other residents of Long Island had probably shipped their valuables to storage warehouses and safedeposit

vaults. The Gray Ghost could not be stopped with guns, he could, however, be balked by lack of opportunity

This plan constituted no victory. Harry could see its weakness. It allowed the Gray Ghost to lie hidden until

he chose to depart to other terrain, carrying a million dollars worth of booty. Perhaps his depredations would

begin anew, in some other section of the country. In a sense, the Gray Ghost had triumphed. He had milked

Long Island; he was free to transform his illgained pelf into substantial cash, like the currency that he had

On this particular morning, Harry's waking thoughts concerned the Gray Ghost. When he stopped at the hotel

desk to obtain his mail, he thought but little of the long envelope that the clerk delivered to him. Opening the

envelope, Harry withdrew a typewritten sheet. He began to read mechanically, then suddenly gained interest.

The letter was from James Pennybrook, the lawyer. It requested that Harry call either at Pennybrook's

Manhattan office or at his residence in Holmwood. It promised facts concerning the Gray Ghost. While Harry

pondered over the letter, a bellboy approached to tell him that he was wanted on the telephone.

Going to a booth, Harry answered the call and heard the voice of Rutledge Mann. The investment broker

delivered a drawled message. Harry was to call upon Pennybrook, immediately after breakfast.

Harry had risen late. It was nearly ten o'clock when he reached Pennybrook's office, high up in a skyscraper.

Harry's thoughts had turned to The Shadow. He wondered how his chief had learned about this letter. Harry,

however, had but little time for speculation after he reached Pennybrook's. He was ushered promptly into an

inner office. There he found the baldheaded attorney already holding conference with other visitors.

One was Colin Renright, who greeted Harry with a warm handshake. Another was Pierce Gilden whom

Harry knew by sight only. Pennybrook introduced Harry to Gilden. There were two others: Forbel and one of

his guests on the night of the robbery Wilbersham; both remembered Harry and were cordial in their

"You have arrived just in time, Mr. Vincent," announced Pennybrook, in a dry tone. "I was about to begin a

As Harry was seating himself, Pennybrook thumbed papers that were on his mahogany desk. He cleared his

"Gentlemen," declared Pennybrook, solemnly, "we are all persons who hold a common desire. We wish to

capture the Gray Ghost. I, for one, have an excellent reason to seek the Gray Ghost. I suffered through

personal combat with the rogue. Chance alone, plus darkness, prevented him from killing me, that night at

Debrossler's. All of us have warred with the Gray Ghost. Our cause is the same: We seek a new opportunity

"Let us consider the mystery of the Gray Ghost," resumed Pennybrook. "Culden was not the Gray Ghost. The

police found him, slain in conflict with criminals, prior to the robbery at your home, Mr. Forbel. Culden, so

"Who is the Gray Ghost? That, I cannot answer. I can only apply a process of elimination. Neither Martin

Debrossler, nor you, Mr. Forbel, could be the Gray Ghost. Both of you were victimized by him. Nor could I

be the Gray Ghost. I aided Debrossler at the time the Gray Ghost stole his money.

"We can eliminate Pierce Gilden" Pennybrook indicated the lighthaired young man "because he was

riding into New York at the time of the robbery at Debrossler's. We have the testimony of both of the

banker's daughters and Debrossler's chauffeur, Towden, to prove that neither Pierce Gilden, nor a companion

"We can eliminate three others, all present. You, Vincent; you, Renright; you, Wilbersham " As he gave

each name, Pennybrook thrust a bony finger at the man whom he mentioned. "All of you were with Mr.

Forbel at the time when the Gray Ghost entered. There are others, also, who can clearly be placed apart from

suspicion. I expect to interview every one of them. All have received letters like you did."

Pennybrook referred again to his papers. He leaned across his desk, and wagged his forefinger.

"The Gray Ghost is a man who knows Long Island. He is one who moves in select circles. Servants can be

rejected. Some may have spied for the Gray Ghost, of course, but none are of sufficient caliber to have played

his elusive part. The police have questioned servants everywhere. Gentlemen, the Gray Ghost is someone like

"Let us summarize his qualifications. We know that the Gray Ghost is tall. As to his weight, we are uncertain.

Debrossler describes him as bulky; I can testify as to his strength. Mr. Forbel here, and Mr. Renright, are

"I wouldn't say that he was overheavy. That gray jersey he wore looked rather paddy."

"That's possible," agreed Renright. "I'd have placed him at about my own weight, near to one hundred and

ninety pounds. But he may have faked those proportions. What do you think, Vincent?"

Harry considered. He was picturing the Gray Ghost's appearance. He was unready to agree with either

"Tell me, Mr. Pennybrook," asked the young man, "what would you say about the matter?"

"I did not see the Gray Ghost," reminded the lawyer. "But I must admit that Debrossler's description could

have fitted with this one. In other words, the Gray Ghost may have worn a padded jersey at Debrossler's, as

"Let us say that he was tall and have it go at that. We may then add that he is agile. He escaped from

Debrossler's by a secondstory window; he also made a swift flight across Forbel's lawn. But he is a poor

swimmer. He floundered badly when he tried to gain the motorboat off the end of the pier. That, at least, is

"If he was overweighted, he would have been handicapped in swimming. Perhaps he is really a good

"No." It was Renright who shook his head. "I saw him from the pier. His strokes were amateurish. A good

"Probably so," admitted Gilden. "Yes, under that stress, I suppose he would have exerted his best ability. I,

myself, know nothing about swimming; I can hardly keep myself afloat in the water. Therefore my opinion

"Swimming is my specialty, stated Renright, "so I shall term myself the authority in this case. If I should

have occasion to swim away from pursuers, I would display my natural ability regardless of any burdening

weight. In the case of the Gray Ghost, I affirm that he instinctively swam at his best."

"Which was poor," declared Wilbersham. "I was with you on the pier, Renright. I saw how the Gray Ghost

"A good runner a poor swimmer." Pennybrook marked down the points mentioned. "Add to this the fact

"We know," he declared, "that the Gray Ghost must have entered your house, Mr. Forbel to visit the

"But there were two specific weapons he could not empty," continued Pennybrook, referring to his notes:

"Yours, Mr. Renright, and yours, Mr. Vincent. Let me see you fired four shots pointblank, did you not, Mr.

"I fired twice after that. I broke a windowpane and splintered the door frame. But the Gray Ghost had already

"I was late with my shots," stated Harry. "I dashed out and shot from the porch."

"Bullets could not have passed through the Gray Ghost," declared Pennybrook. "He is not an actual ghost.

That talk is poppycock! The Gray Ghost has proven himself human. He lost his nerve and took to flight. The

bullets, therefore, must have struck him. Only a bulletproof vest could have stopped them."

"Those vests are heavy," remarked Forbel. "Maybe that accounts for the Gray Ghost's weight and bulk. He

"It is a wonder that he managed to swim at all." observed Pennybrook, tapping his desk with a pencil. Then,

shrugging his shoulders: "Well, we must take all that for granted. We shall add a bulletproof vest to the Gray

Ghost's equipment. The details, I must admit, are rather sketchy. Nevertheless, we have one other point to

"Of this we shall all be in agreement. The Gray Ghost is bold. He will make a foray any place where he

believes wealth can be gained. He has already stolen gems yours, Forbel; therefore, we know that he will

"Agreed," announced Pennybrook. "That being settled. I can come to the important point of this discussion.

All of us would like to snare the Gray Ghost and settle scores with him. I have found a way in which it can be

Eager exclamations indicated the interest of the listeners. Pennybrook proceeded.

"Yesterday," he declared, "a wealthy foreigner called at this office. He is a Spaniard, an exile of the old

Royalist regime; but he still uses his title. He is the Count of Santurnia. Like many who left Spain, he brought

"The Count of Santurnia had arranged to occupy a large house on Long Island, beyond Narrowneck. Reading

the reports of the Gray Ghost's activities, he was disturbed. He knew that his new residence would be beyond

the jurisdiction of the New York City police. So he decided to visit an attorney for advice.

"He chose me because he had read my name in the newspaper accounts of the Debrossler robbery. We

discussed the situation; I found the Count of Santurnia intrigued by the stories of the Gray Ghost. He stated

that the rogue reminded him of the Castilian outlaws. He said that in Spain, they trap such terrorists. That fact

"Tonight," he declared, "this story will go to the newspapers. An interview with the Count of Santurnia;

telling of his heirlooms, the famous gems that he will never trust to anyone's keeping but his own. Today is

"That very night, he will hold a reception. It will resemble yours, Mr. Forbel. The Count of Santurnia will

All that day, Harry pondered upon the coming event. The more he considered it, with the publicity that it

would surely receive, the more he was convinced that the Gray Ghost would swallow the bait and come as an

Harry could foresee another stranger who would also visit the Count of Santurnia's mansion.

Late Wednesday afternoon, Harry Vincent was driving along a hillcrest above Long Island Sound. He

Pictured against greensward was a castellated mansion that clung to a slope of ground. Down from the

building stretched the wide open lawn. One corner of the area was filled with a thick grove. Trees were sparse

A squatly pier extended into a little cove. On one side was a rocky promontory; in fact, the whole shore was

stony except for one short patch of beach. Near the pier and connected with it by a broad platform was a

There were no boats along the shore. Some fifty feet off from the wide pier was an anchored float that had a

One feature of the grounds that Harry noted was the high, spiked fence that surrounded it on three sides. The

shore line alone was unprotected. The height of the fence; the closeness of its pickets indicated that it would

be a serious barrier for anyone who might attempt an escape. The only entrance for automobiles was a wide

gateway on the far side of the ground. Harry could see that the gates stood open.

Harry's interest in the scene was definite. Those grounds below were the estate that had been rented by the

Count of Santurnia. Harry had come early, so as to gain an advantage that he had not held at Forbel's. His

A car pulled up beside Harry's, so silently that The Shadow's agent did not notice it until it stopped. The car

"Borrowed it in New York," he returned. "If I hadn't managed to get it, I would have called you, Renright."

"Too bad you didn't. I had expected to see you at Narrowneck. Say," Renright gestured toward the water

A hazy darkness had begun to settle. Harry noted the dancing waters of the Sound; he saw the foam of waves

as they splashed the rocky shore. Dusk was arriving prematurely. Renright pointed to the northern sky.

"We're due for a storm," he announced. "It will be a good evening for the Gray Ghost, Vincent."

The breeze had been heavy here on the heights. Harry could feel its increase. The clouds that Renright

indicated were thick and black. From the horizon came a sheet of distant lightning.

"That won't blow over in a hurry," was Harry's comment. Then, with a laugh: "If there is a real downpour. we

"The odds will be against him, any way you figure it," predicted Renright. "I'm afraid he'll leave us holding

an empty bag. Well, Vincent, we might as well get in ahead of the storm. You lead the way."

Harry started his coupe, with Renright's car following. The road curved away from the Sound, then twisted

down a hill. It joined a level road and came to a corner of the fence that surrounded the count's estate. Harry

reached the open gateway, a hundred yards ahead. He drove into the driveway and followed it until he

Liveried servants were about, awaiting the guests. Harry and Renright parked their car and were conducted

into the house. The course led them to a manywindowed conservatory, where bowing servants requested

Lighting a cigarette, Renright strolled back and forth. He pointed outdoors at each end of the conservatory.

"This place is wide open," was Renright's comment. "Do you suppose that the count intends to keep the gems

"He would be taking a long chance," returned Harry. "But that seems to be his policy."

"Yes. Pennybrook must have filled him with the urge to snare the Gray Ghost. I'd like to see this count chap.

"The invitation included dinner, but that won't be until half past seven. Some of the guests will not arrive

Both Harry and Renright had received calls from Pennybrook that day. The lawyer had mentioned that they

would be welcome early. He had said that he, himself, would come directly from his office. Hence, when

Harry and Renright heard footsteps, they were not surprised to see the lawyer appear.

Pennybrook shook hands and commented on the weather. The storm, it seemed, was coming closer. By the

time new guests had arrived, the roar of thunder had commenced to follow lightning flashes. The patter of

A group of half a dozen were seated in the conservatory when Pennybrook suddenly arose and turned toward

the house door. The others followed his gaze; they saw a tall figure in evening clothes. Harry noted an

olivehued visage that contrasted with the white collar beneath it. He studied a sharpfeatured face, and

"The Count of Santurnia," announced Pennybrook. "I shall introduce you, gentlemen."

The count bowed as he stepped forward. He extended his right hand, longfingered and as darkish as his

face. Each guest received a firm grip of welcome. The count nodded as each was introduced.

The count's distinguished manner commanded all attention. When he spoke, his tone carried but the slightest

"Ah, Senor Pennybrook," declared the count, with a bow. "It is good that you have brought so many friends

"Several," replied the lawyer. "But there are four who cannot arrive until after dinner. Let me see: Forbel,

Debrossler, Gilden they are three. The other yes, I remember him. A chap named Bixter, who was at

"All the rest of us are here, except Wilbersham. He should be here soon. Perhaps this is Wilbersham whom I

Pennybrook was correct. Wilbersham appeared and was introduced to the count. The formality ended, the

"We shall dine," announced the count. "It is earlier than we intended, but since all are present who intend to

The count broke off. His darktinted forehead showed a frown as he heard impatient voices. He turned to

Pennybrook saw an irate man arguing with servants, pressing himself toward the conservatory despite their

"Hello, Pennybrook," was the police commissioner's response. Weston had reached the conservatory. "You

"The meaning?" returned Pennybrook. "Simply that we intend to bait the Gray Ghost."

"Many!" Weston's tone was a roar. "The police are on the trail of the Gray Ghost! We have the authority "

"Ah, senor," he asserted. "This has already been discussed. I have been told by Senor Pennybrook that this

"The Count of Santurnia," returned the attorney. "At present, the master of this house."

"At my suggestion." added Pennybrook. "Since we are outside your jurisdiction, commissioner, I saw no

Weston glared angrily. He turned on his heel, intending to stride from the house. The Count of Santurnia

"There should be no offense, senor," he insisted, suavely. "As a guest, you are much welcome. See? The

night is bad. Already, the rain has begun terrific. We are about to dine. Would you stay, senor?"

"I was hasty," he admitted. "Very well. Since there is no other alternative, I shall remain."

Pennybrook clapped Weston on the back. An arriving servant announced dinner. The count bowed Weston

and Pennybrook through the doorway. The others followed, Renright and Harry last. As Harry passed the

count, a long hand gripped his arm. Harry met a keen gaze; he saw eyes look downward.

Following their direction, Harry saw the count's left hand. From it glittered a gem that the count had

previously kept turned toward his palm. Harry recognized the changing hues of a magnificent fire opal, a

Renright had advanced. Astonished, Harry again looked squarely into the count's eyes. He caught their

Harry nodded mechanically. The hand had left his arm; the count was turning the girasol inward. Harry

walked into the house, to follow Renright. The count came after him, but Harry did not turn about.

Harry had expected The Shadow to be present here tonight, but not in the guise that he had found him. He

was gripped with amazement at The Shadow's craftiness. Once again, his chief had proven his mastery of

Dinner had ended. The Shadow had led his guests back to the conservatory. All were convivial, including

Weston. The police commissioner had listened to the count's persuasive discourse during dinner. He had

Not for an instant had Weston thought of any connection between the Count of Santurnia and his Weston's

Rain was battering hard against the windows. Lightning was frequent; the rumble of thunder drowned many

words of conversation. Still suave in his role of the count, The Shadow had begun to speak. At intervals, he

"Si, senor," said The Shadow, to Weston. "In my country, we have the way to bait the bandits. They are

greedy. They have spies. Word is taken to them in their mountain dwellings. They will always come where

"This one you call the Gray Ghost is no different. He has no mountain abode. He does not need it. He has had

a spy, as you have told me. Perhaps there are others who have served for him: Your newspapers.

"Ah, they have told that the Count of Santurnia has wealth. That he has brought many gems to this house

which he has rented. It was easy that I should move here for the furniture, it was already in place."

Weston nodded. He had recognized that the house had been rented furnished. The furniture, though

serviceable, was old. The owners had themselves removed any articles of real value.

"And the Gray Ghost knew where I would be," resumed The Shadow, in his foreign accent. "That has given

him opportunity, senor, to see this place beforehand. Tonight, we may expect the Gray Ghost "

The Shadow broke off. A cry had sounded from Pennybrook. It came simultaneously with a vivid, prolonged

flash of lightning. The lawyer was pointing toward an end door of the conservatory. With a crash, the door

Thunder rumbled while The Shadow strolled to the opened door and closed it against the inpour of rain.

"It was nothing," he remarked, when the thunder had subsided. "The wind, senor, that was all. But it does

bring to us reminder that the Gray Ghost himself may come. The bait ah, si it should be prepared."

From within a pocket of his evening clothes, The Shadow produced a compact chamois bag. He opened it and

let brilliant jewels trickle from the pouch into his lower hand. Men acclaimed, as they stepped forward.

"Old gems," declared The Shadow. "Rich heirlooms of my ancestors. Worth hundreds of thousands of your

dollars! These were from the days of Spanish conquests; none have been placed in settings, ever.

"The light here" he looked about in disapproval "it is bad. Very bad! The luster of the gems, it cannot

show. I shall bring other lights to let you see the sparkle of emeralds; the glow of rubies; the glitter of these

With his call to the servant, The Shadow looked about. His eyes narrowed; they stared toward the door that

had previously swung inward. The door had opened again. This time, it was gripped by a restraining hand.

On the sill stood the Gray Ghost, exactly as he had appeared at Forbel's. His attire, however, was darker,

almost black, for it was soaked by the torrential rain. A flash of zigzagged lightning showed him plainly; it

Tonight, the Gray Ghost did not find men unprepared. Hands had gone to pockets at the instant when The

The Gray Ghost saw the brandished weapons. With a long bound, he sprang away, slamming the door behind

Two revolvers spoke together. One was Renright's. The other was Commissioner Weston's. Bullets smashed

glass panes of the conservatory door. The shots were futile. The Gray Ghost had fled. Harry, in fact, had

whipped out his automatic as quickly as Renright and Weston had obtained their guns; but The Shadow's

Men surged en masse, all with drawn guns. Pennybrook wrenched open the door. Weston pointed to a

scudding figure off between the trees. Pellmell, the crowd took up the chase, but their opportunity was brief.

It was a lightning flash that had revealed the Gray Ghost in flight. The instant that blinding light was gone,

Harry had joined in the dash. He saw a car come swinging through from the gate. Its headlights were feeble

against the rain. Yanking a flashlight, Harry approached the car. A man within pressed a dome light; Harry

saw a startled, elderly face. Then Pennybrook arrived. He recognized the newcomer in the car.

"That does not matter!" shouted the lawyer, as thunder roared with lightning. "We're after the Gray Ghost!"

There was a shout from the distance. Then shots, that sounded fizzy in the rain. Harry dashed off to

investigate. A lightning flash showed Renright and Weston, heading in the same direction. Another car was

As they arrived, the man who had fired came in front of the headlights. It was Pierce Gilden. Seeing the

"I saw the Gray Ghost!" he cried. "I was right behind Mr. Debrossler's car! The Gray Ghost must have

dodged his headlamps, but he blundered into mine! I jumped out and fired after him!"

Another car swung into the driveway. It was a limousine, bringing the last of the arriving guests: Forbel and

Bixter. The chauffeur sprang out and helped bar the gates. Weston left him on guard, with one of the servants

"Search the grounds!" Weston was brisk. "Block off the area between the house and the high fence line!

When Commissioner Weston reached the conservatory, he was accompanied only by Harry and Gilden.

Harry had taken this opportunity to get back to The Shadow; Gilden had come also, because he had a report

to make concerning the Gray Ghost. Weston gaped as they entered the lighted conservatory.

The Shadow was seated in an easychair beside a table, calmly smoking a thin cigar. On the table was the

chamois bag; its strings were loose, the gems showed a glitter from within. Still playing his part as the Count

"Why should I not?" returned The Shadow, suavely. "The Gray Ghost, he was in flight. He had not time to

"He is inside the grounds," announced Weston. "A dozen men are searching for him. They have cornered him

"Bueno, senor," approved The Shadow. "Ah, here are others. Men whose clothes have not been soaked by the

He indicated Forbel and Bixter, who had found their way in from the front of the house.

"We were in our car," explained Forbel. "Debrossler is also in his machine. He will be in very shortly. None

of us saw the Gray Ghost. Apparently, Debrossler arrived too soon; while I reached here too late."

"Yes," agreed Gilden. "My car was between the two. I saw the Gray Ghost dart away. I sprang out and fired

"The heaviest of the storm is passing," stated Weston, "but there will still be lightning flashes. Those men

along the fence should surely trap the Gray Ghost. Come, the two of you" he indicated Harry and Gilden

"and let the dry members of our party stay with the count. But I would advise you, count, to put away your

Debrossler's voice came before The Shadow could reply. The banker was in the front hall, trying to find his

way through. Forbel and Bixter started out to meet him. The Shadow bowed to Weston.

"What you say is good, senor," he declared. "Bueno! The bait is no longer needed. It shall be put away in

He stopped before he reached the table. Again, his eyes were narrowing beyond where his companions stood,

this time toward the other door of the conservatory. As lightning flashed, an evil snarl was voiced before the

As the rumble started, Commissioner Weston and Harry turned about, caught completely off their guard.

Once more, the Gray Ghost had arrived from the rain. He was closer; he looked bulkier, more formidable in

his dripping garments. His eyes were gloating through the slits of the tight, watersoaked hood. His

Reluctantly, Commissioner Weston raised his arms. He had pocketed his revolver, hence he had no other

course. Gilden, too, had made the same mistake. His hands came up: Harry was as badly off as both. He

The Shadow, motionless, had folded his arms. Retaining the suave character of Santurnia, he did not change

The Gray Ghost strode forward, moving his gun to cover all four persons. With his left hand he seized the

chamois bag by the strings. He noted the glittering contents and gave a shake. The weight of the pouch closed

Backing to the door by which he had entered, the Gray Ghost spoke in husky growl. His words were directed

On the instant, Harry realized that the Gray Ghost must have guessed the identity of the pretended count.

Harry remembered The Shadow's advent at Debrossler's. The public had supposed that episode to be a return

of the Gray Ghost. To the Gray Ghost, it had meant another intruder. He had known that only The Shadow

Harry looked toward Weston and Gilden. He saw blankness on their faces. He recalled that Gilden had

combated The Shadow at Debrossler's, hence Gilden could not understand the facts. He, like others, had

Tonight, the Gray Ghost had suspected a trap. He had credited The Shadow with devising it. The Gray Ghost

had gained a bag of jewels. But he wanted more: the death of the man whom he had robbed. Yet, despite the

Gray Ghost's threat, The Shadow remained unperturbed, still retaining his part of the count.

Then Harry saw why The Shadow had chosen not to display a gun. A window of the conservatory had

wedged open, unnoticed. Through its crack was projected the muzzle of a.45 automatic. The gun was directed

squarely toward the Gray Ghost. Harry guessed the identity of the marksman behind it.

Cliff Marsland was here, in reserve. Outside, under the protecting ledge of the conservatory roof, Cliff had

been ready for any emergency. Before the Gray Ghost would have a chance to fire, Cliff would drop him

where he stood. The instant that the Gray Ghost took direct aim toward The Shadow, he would give his own

Luck saved the Gray Ghost. Voices sounded from the house. Forbel and Bixter had arrived with Debrossler.

Forbel saw the Gray Ghost from the doorway. He shouted; he and his companions drew revolvers.

The Gray Ghost forgot The Shadow. Wheeling about, he made a dive through the end door. Forbel and the

others fired wildly. Cliff's gun spurted, its roar lost in the barks of other weapons. Cliff had lost his aim. His

Weston yanked his revolver and led the chase. Harry was in it, along with the others. A shouting pack, they

saw the Gray Ghost by a lightning flash. Their cries brought the men who were still searching along the

fence. Harry fired a shot to draw attention. Gilden, running beside him, frantically dispatched two bullets.

Hard on the roar of thunder came another vivid blaze of lightning. The Gray Ghost had taken the only

unguarded route. He was dashing for the Sound, his long strides carrying him farther ahead of the pursuers.

Harry could remember his jest to Renright, regarding a race on a muddy track. The Gray Ghost was proving

Rain had become a terrific deluge, with thunder and lightning delivering their last outbursts. Each flash

showed the whole lawn, with the Gray Ghost making for the shore. Gilden was ahead of Harry; he slipped

and skidded along the turf. A moment later, Weston took a sprawl. Harry was a dozen yards at the head of the

Harry saw him reach the shore, as a final stab of lightning rocketed across the sky. Then, while thunder

rumbled through the blackness, Harry stumbled upon rocks. He was near the cove. No lightning followed

when he needed it. Harry pulled out his flashlight; by its glow, he managed to distinguish the little pier.

Weston was shouting orders. He was calling to others, telling them to scatter all along the fringe of the water.

Soon there came new lightning that showed men everywhere; but the Gray Ghost was gone. Harry stared out

A car was sloshing down from the house. Forbel had come out to his limousine. The headlights were brilliant;

to them, Forbel added the glare of a special searchlight which the car carried. While infrequent lightning

flashes helped the watchers along the shore, the car lights threw a powerful beam upon the pilings of the

Weston had broken into the bathhouse. Other men were clambering beneath the pier. Harry joined Gilden just

as the fellow slipped deep into the water. As he hauled Gilden on to the shore, Harry laughed.

"Guess you can't get more drenched than you are," he remarked. "Neither can I. We might as well plow right

"That suits me," returned Gilden, "provided I can keep hold of those posts. I don't want to get in too deep."

Beneath the pier, Harry used a flashlight, as did others who had come under from the far side. Waistdeep in

water, they scoured among the pilings, to make positive that the Gray Ghost had not chosen this lurking spot.

The water at the end of the pier was of sixfeet depth. Between the central supports, Harry glared his

The rain was pounding upon the boards above, with streams of water trickling through the cracks; but there

was no downpour to restrict the flashlight's beam. Harry's chief difficulty lay in obtaining a good hold against

The search was finished. Harry heard Weston calling from above. The commissioner had received the report

that the Gray Ghost was not beneath the pier. Harry emerged to find Gilden on the shore.

"We look like a couple of water rats," laughed Gilden. "So do those fellows who went out the other side. We

Harry nodded his agreement. He looked along the shore toward scattered spots of light. Searchers had begun

to assemble at Weston's call. Hoarse, the commissioner made a final announcement.

"Half a dozen men have gone to the grove," he declared. "That's the last place the Gray Ghost could be. They

Harry welcomed the order. He went toward the house, guiding himself by a light above the front door. As he

came within the glow, he joined other searchers. The front door opened. The Shadow was standing there

Pennybrook had come up beside Harry. The lawyer was growling angrily. He had been outside continually

since the Gray Ghost's first appearance. He had heard of the robbery after the search by the shore.

As they entered the front door, Renright arrived. He looked at Harry and laughed. His tone, however, was

"I thought we were going to trap the Gray Ghost, Vincent," declared Renright. "I would have made a bet that

he was under the pier. I came in from one side when you slid under from the other. But the Gray Ghost wasn't

"They'll find him in the grove," assured Gilden, who had also arrived. "That's the only place left where he

"The count says there are dry clothes upstairs," put in Pennybrook, joining the trio. "They belong to the

The searchers went upstairs. Soon Weston arrived with the rest of the dripping party. The grove had revealed

no traces of the Gray Ghost. These late arrivals also went upstairs to find other garments.

It was a nondescript array that appeared in the conservatory half an hour later. A few were well attired in

clothes that The Shadow had provided. The rest had rummaged through old trunks and closets to find

wornout suits, overalls, and khaki trousers. All looked weary and ready for departure; they welcomed The

"My servants will continue the search," assured The Shadow, in his accented tones. "We have failed to

capture the Gray Ghost; but we made a valiant effort. My congratulations, senores."

"It is your loss that troubles us, count," returned Pennybrook. "We were here to protect your valuables. We

"The fortune of war," stated The Shadow, with a broad smile. "After all, Senor Debrossler was also robbed.

"We shall capture the Gray Ghost," assured Commissioner Weston hoarsely. "But remember, count, I warned

The others were leaving. The Shadow made a slight gesture that Harry understood. He went out with

Renright, following Pennybrook and Gilden. The Shadow remained alone with Commissioner Weston.

"One moment, Senor Commissioner," suggested The Shadow, in his suave tone. "There is something which I

Motors were throbbing outside the house. The guests were on their way. While Weston stared, The Shadow

reached into a tail pocket of his dress suit and produced a chamois bag. He opened it and let gems trickle into

"These are the real gems," returned The Shadow. "The Gray Ghost took false stones, senor."

"You saw the genuine, senor, upon the first occasion. It was wise that it should be so. That the Gray Ghost

could see. You recall my mention that the light was poor, senor? That was what you in America call a bluff.

Weston recalled that the stones had shown a magnificent sparkle; that fact was being duplicated before his

"While you first sought the Gray Ghost," he remarked, "I put this bag away. The one which I laid in its place,

that was different, senor. Its contents were no gems. They were mere imitations. The Gray Ghost took but one

Weston extended his hand in congratulation. The Shadow received it with the firm grip that he had previously

given. As he walked toward the front door with Weston, he carried the jewel pouch with him.

"This bag," he remarked, suavely, "is not heavy. But it would be difficult to conceal, eh, senor?"

"The Gray Ghost took a bag the size of it," returned Weston, speculatively. "He thrust it beneath his jersey."

"That is grand, senor. Then the Gray Ghost did not carry it away. It would have been one great risk."

"That is true. Nevertheless, senor, it may be that we shall sometime find him. Truly, I would have gladly let

Weston stared, perplexed. He wondered what had struck the Count of Santurnia. The Shadow offered no

"Let the newspapers believe," he reminded, in parting. "They can say that true gems were stolen."

Stepping out into the blinding rain, the commissioner reached the small car in which he had driven from New

York. After a few stalls, the motor throbbed. Weston drove away. The last of The Shadow's guests had gone.

From the smiling lips of the Count of Santurnia came a strangely whispered laugh; one that predicted a

successful future. Again, the Gray Ghost had escaped. That fact did not disturb The Shadow. His laugh

It was late the next afternoon. Harry Vincent was driving into New York City from Narrowneck. He had

spent the night at the club, with Colin Renright. This afternoon, in response to a call from Rutledge Mann, he

Presumably, Harry was going West. His vacation had ended. Actually, his work was done. So far as he was

concerned, the quest for the Gray Ghost was ended. Harry knew, however, that The Shadow had not finished

Harry had an idea that other agents would still be kept on duty. Certainly Cliff Marsland; probably Hawkeye;

possibly Clyde Burke. In stepping from the picture, Harry was simply serving The Shadow's plans. He had

Somewhere in his course of action, Harry had met the man who was actually the Gray Ghost. Of all the men

whom he had encountered, Harry could not pick the right one. Nevertheless, he was positive that in his

Since the Gray Ghost had guessed that The Shadow had endeavored to outwit him, it was possible that the

Gray Ghost also suspected Harry of being The Shadow's aid. Harry had come into the game as a stranger.

There was a chance that the Gray Ghost was watching him. The best plan, therefore, was for Harry to retire

from all fields of action. That was the reason for The Shadow's order that Harry should return to New York

To reach Manhattan, Harry had to pass through Holmwood. He remembered that he had a guest card at the

Holmwood Beach Club. He decided to stop there long enough for dinner. Holmwood was actually within the

Long Island Sound had calmed today. A clear sky promised a moonlight night. Dusk was settling as Harry

reached the driveway beside the club. He left his coupe in the parking space and strolled into the clubhouse.

Immediately, he heard his name called. He looked about and saw Pierce Gilden. With the young man was

Gilden had a warm handshake for Harry. He introduced Harry to Jane then began a discussion of last night's

events. Jane seemed thrilled by the description of the Gray Ghost's escape. When Gilden had concluded his

"I should like to have met the Count of Santurnia," declared Jane. "He must be a jolly sport. Father said that

"No," declared Gilden. "Jane's father talked with him this afternoon and states that the count has been left

"He managed to cancel the lease on the mansion," added Jane. "He dismissed all the servants. He has gone

into New York, so father says, to live at some obscure hotel. The count hopes to receive some money from

"Worse than father's," agreed Jane. "Which reminds me, Pierce, that I must hurry home. You are invited for

dinner, so you must come with me. We should also like to have you with us, Mr. Vincent."

"I am sorry, Miss Debrossler," he declared, "but I must decline. I am expecting word from a friend. It would

One hour later, Harry had finished dinner and was sitting in the cool of the veranda. The moon had risen; the

mildness of the night made Harry loath to continue his trip to Manhattan. He decided at last that he might

possibly be needed by The Shadow. If so, his hotel was the place where he should be.

Arising, Harry walked toward his car. As he neared the coupe, a local taxi wheeled up and Jane Debrossler

"Hello, Mr. Vincent!" greeted Jane, as soon as she had paid the driver. "Have you seen Pierce Gilden here?"

"He did," declared the girl. "But he left right after dinner. Father went out in the big car, soon after Pierce had

driven away. That left me alone, with no car. Louise my sister was not at home for dinner. She has the

"So I was alone," continued Jane, "when my aunt called up from Northpoint. She is ill; I must go there at

The girl looked about for the taxi that had brought her. The cab had driven away.

"How stupid!" exclaimed Jane. "It may take a halfhour to get another taxi. The service here is horrible "

"Suppose I drive you out to Northpoint," interposed Harry. "The trip would not require much time."

Harry ushered Jane into the coupe. They headed eastward, along the road to Narrowneck. Considering the

circumstances, Harry decided that this trip would certainly eliminate him from any observation on the part of

At Narrowneck, they passed the clubhouse where Harry had stopped the night before. Harry saw Colin

Renright standing beside his coupe, chatting with some friends. Renright was turned half away; he did not

Jane Debrossler had remained silent during most of the journey. She had expressed anxiety about her aunt.

Harry supposed that the girl was too worried to be talkative. But when they neared the town of Northpoint,

"Father was going to buy a cottage here at Northpoint," said Jane, "but he decided that the place was too old

and too small. It was empty then and has been ever since. The best feature of the place was the boathouse.

"We turn at the next road to the left; then right when we reach the last road before the Sound. We go right by

the cottage that I mentioned. I shall show it to you, Mr. Vincent. I want you to notice the boathouse in

Harry made the two turns. He slowed the car as they rolled along the final stretch of road.

"Quick, Mr. Vincent!" pleaded Jane. "Pull over to the right, into that little road! Put out the lights!"

Harry obeyed, knowing that something important must have happened. Jane was pointing across the wheel, to

"Look!" she whispered, breathlessly. "See that figure going toward the boathouse? It's the Gray Ghost!"

Harry could see the boathouse clearly in the moonlight. It was a large structure, as boathouses go; and its

walls were dusky. Soon Harry saw a moving, wavering figure. Jane was right. It was the Gray Ghost!

Instantly, Harry came to action. This was an emergency the type of situation in which quick judgment

served in place of all instructions. As an agent for The Shadow, Harry had a perfect opportunity to serve his

Harry looked to the road. Shading trees hid his coupe well. A few yards more would render the camouflage

perfect. Harry coasted the car farther out of view. He spoke to the girl beside him.

"Let me come also," pleaded Jane. "It would be safer. I can let you go ahead. If there is any trouble, I may be

The girl was wearing a dark dress. There was little chance that she could be seen. Harry spoke his agreement.

Together, they crossed the road and reached a low hedge on the other side. Harry heard cars coming from

both directions. He told Jane to lie low until they had passed. The girl obeyed.

Harry looked for the Gray Ghost. At last he saw the figure again, almost motionless, against the whitish wall

of the cottage. The Gray Ghost was waiting at a spot that could scarcely be seen from the road. Harry's new

"He doesn't spy us," whispered Harry to Jane. "Let's move over toward the boathouse. We can cut him off

They crept forward, close to the ground. Bushclumped ground gave them an advantage. All the while, the

Gray Ghost was visible as he paced impatiently back and forth beside the wall of the cottage. Harry and Jane

The maneuvers had taken a full dozen minutes. Ten more passed, while the Gray Ghost still kept his position.

"Some new crime, probably," whispered Jane, tensely. "Look! He is moving away from the cottage. Not in

"He's coming here," predicted Harry, "but he doesn't like the moonlight. That's why he is making a circuit.

Come along with me. We'll move to the near corner of the boathouse. I'll be ready for him when he makes the

They reached the corner. Close to the ground, Harry and Jane watched the Gray Ghost edge toward a rocky

knoll no more than twenty paces distant. He was hidden from the moonlight; but there was no way in which

he could leave the cluster of rocks without being seen. Harry gripped his automatic. He spoke to Jane.

"If he retreats," promised Harry, "I'm going after him. If he comes this direction, I'll meet him. He doesn't

Harry crept forward, obscured from the moonlight by the shaded edge of the boathouse. His eyes were

focused on the rocks where he knew the Gray Ghost must be. So intent was Harry that when Jane gave a

A hiss followed. That threat made Harry swing about. He stopped, rigid, staring at the incredible. Amazingly,

impossibly, the Gray Ghost had left his lurking place. The master crook had arrived beside the boathouse.

Jane Debrossler was covered by a revolver muzzle. The weapon pointed on a line straight to Harry. The gun

was gripped by the jerseyed figure that stood hooded in the moonlight. Like the girl, Harry was helpless.

Harry's automatic thudded rocky soil. Covered at close range, he was stupefied by the Gray Ghost's

astonishing appearance beside the boathouse. In addition, Harry knew that any antagonistic deed on his part

might cost another life beside his own. Jane Debrossler was in the path of the Gray Ghost's gun.

The Gray Ghost motioned Harry toward the boathouse. Advancing with upraised arms, The Shadow's agent

stopped by a padlocked double door. Using his free hand, the Gray Ghost opened the padlock. He swung the

Both obeyed. Flooding moonlight streaked a wooden flooring above the water's edge. The Gray Ghost had

kept his prisoners from reaching inner depths, where darkness might have served him. While the captives

The Gray Ghost had entered. Moonlight faded as the door swung shut. Almost with the same move, the Gray

Ghost turned a light switch. A single bulb illuminated a barren room. This was the ground floor of the

The prisoners obeyed their captor's orders. In the dull light, Harry gained a new view of the Gray Ghost. He

was able to judge the rogue's size more accurately than before. Harry decided that the Gray Ghost had bulk,

Nevertheless, the crook's appearance was deceptive. There was something oddly puzzling to Harry. Mental

comparisons failed him. He was trying to find the answer; when it came, it furnished a new surprise. Looking

beyond the Gray Ghost, Harry saw the door move inward. For a moment, he felt elation; then an impulsive

Into the boathouse stepped another grayclad figure, at first glance the twin of the one who had made the

capture. As the new arrival approached, Harry sensed the difference. Both were of equal height; but the

A deluge of explanations swept through Harry's brain. Last night's events came popping back to memory.

Both Gray Ghosts had visited the mansion which The Shadow had occupied as the Count of Santurnia. The

lighter man had been the first. The bulky one had made the getaway with the false gems.

Identities leaped suddenly to Harry's mind. Before his conjectures could reach his lips, the larger of the Gray

Ghosts issued a snarled signal. Together, the captors pulled back their hoods. Harry saw the very men whose

Jane Debrossler uttered a startled cry, as she recognized Gilden. The rogue leered contemptuously. Turning

about, Gilden went to the door and swung down a wooden bar that clicked into a huge, upturned hook. The

barrier closed against rescuers, Gilden swung around and brandished a revolver of his own.

"So you see the game at last!" jeered Renright, facing Harry. "You meddled long enough; but you never

would have guessed it. I did the job at Debrossler's, while Pierce fixed himself a perfect alibi."

"At my expense," exclaimed Jane. "That was why you went to town with us, Pierce, the night father was

"Why not?" jeered Gilden. "I had one set of friends. Colin had another. We took turns at crime, each robbing

"And Culden handed us tipoffs," growled Renright. "We took care of him, until he put himself in bad with

some New York thugs. Gang methods were not in our line. Our tactics were more subtle."

"I handled Forbel's gems," asserted Gilden, proudly. "It was a tough job, particularly with that swim I had to

"But I needed an alibi," smirked Renright. "So I was on good behavior that night. I helped you a bit, though,

"By unloading the guns," ejaculated Harry, "when I thought you were upstairs in the gallery!"

"You've got it," growled Renright, "and you nearly queered the deal, yanking that gun I didn't know you had.

I've had a score to settle with you, Vincent. It's too bad for you that you found your way here tonight."

"And for Jane, also," added Gilden, with a snarl. "This is the night we move the swag. No one is going to

Gilden moved past the prisoners. Harry could hear him opening a trapdoor in the floor. The sound of lapping

water became more audible. It must have seemed ominous to Jane; for the girl began to gasp.

"These men are merciless," expressed Jane. Then, steadying, she addressed Renright: "Our deaths will bring

"Call it quits with the girl," said Harry, in a firm tone. "You bagged her father's cash. What good will it do to

kill her? Rub me out, if you want. I wanted to get on your trail. But the girl is different. Count her out of it."

In his steady tone, Harry had done his utmost to hold Renright's attention. For while he spoke, Harry could

see a motion beyond the bulky form of the larger Gray Ghost. The bar that Gilden had fastened was moving

upward. Someone from outside had wedged a blade between the sections of the double door. The bar was

lifting noiselessly, but Harry wanted to cover any chance scraping that it might make.

"The girl can talk," growled Renright. "That means she is to die. Whoever you are, Vincent, doesn't matter. I

thought once that you might be The Shadow. I found out differently, after I met the Count of Santurnia.

"We staged that job together, Pierce and I, so neatly that no one could have guessed our system. I studied the

lay the day before. I kidded you when I met you on the road. You say you were on my trail. I suppose you

"It makes no difference. I'd have bumped you any time I needed to. The time's here right now. It's curtains for

you and the girl! I've got The Shadow's jewels here with me" he tapped a bulge at one side of his gray

Renright broke off. Gilden's head had popped from the trapdoor, looking in Renright's direction. Gilden saw

what Harry had observed: the final lifting of the wooden bar. Half through the trapdoor, Gilden uttered a cry

and shot a hand for his gun, which he had pocketed. Renright saw the move and spun about. He was too late.

The half door was swinging inward. On the threshold was The Shadow, garbed in black. His fists clutched

There was an instant's hesitation; then Renright's gun dropped, while Gilden's hands raised weaponless. The

The Shadow was unsurprised at sight of two Gray Ghosts. His manner showed that he had expected to find

both rogues. As he held the crooks at bay, The Shadow spoke in sinister whisper.

"Your part was known, Renright," he pronounced. "You gave away your athletic ability by your flight from

Renright gaped. He wondered why The Shadow had left him unmolested. The answer came.

"I wanted to learn more," declared The Shadow. "When crime struck at Forbel's, you had an alibi. But you

proved, despite yourself, that you were involved in crime. You did more than remove bullets from the guns of

"You had four blanks in your own revolver shots which you fired at the Gray Ghost, to give credence to his

supposed immunity against bullets. You kept two bulletladen cartridges to fire afterward. Gilden, however,

It was all explained to Harry. He realized how Renright had helped Gilden's bluff. The Shadow had seen

through the game. He had known that a marksman of Renright's repute would not have fired wide with four

straight shots. He had known also that the Gray Ghost would not have stood his ground against possible

Harry understood how the game of the Gray Ghost had been spoiled. Harry himself had ruined it,

unwittingly. Renright had coached Gilden to make a slow departure. Had Gilden done that, as the Gray Ghost

Instead, the Gray Ghost had been pursued. Rumors that he was superhuman had changed to talk of

bulletproof vests. A wrong theory; but one that had sufficed to break the spell of the Gray Ghost.

"I planned a snare," announced The Shadow. "As the Count of Santurnia, I let you steal false gems. Both of

you proved your parts last night. Gilden came earlier than Debrossler. He waited until Debrossler's car

appeared. He showed himself as the Gray Ghost; then fled back to his own car, parked outside the gates, and

"You had your alibi, Renright," resumed The Shadow. "Gilden had discarded his gray garb. You donned it,

without the padding, and came for the gems. This time, Gilden had the alibi. Two Gray Ghosts were at work.

"I had wisely provided one that I knew would suit you; the float beyond the pier an easy underwater swim

for so capable an athlete as yourself. You came back from there when the search ended. You left the

"The false gems?" queried Renright, with a snarl. "What did you do? Switch them today; then wait for me to

"I changed them last night," returned The Shadow. "At no time did you hold the real gems. Your return was

awaited, Renright. I was prepared to follow you by land, or by water. You chose land. I let you reach this

hiding place. I knew that here I would find Gilden also, together with your accumulated spoils."

"You win," he declared, sourly. "I thought you had given up the part you played. I figured the Count of

Santurnia had gone. That's why I drove out there awhile ago. I wore a bathing suit when I dived under the

"The gems I thought were real. I changed to these clothes in the bathhouse and headed here. Gilden met me,

wearing an outfit of his own. We figured the Gray Ghost stuff was still good, in case we met any dubs along

"But you licked us." Renright dropped his left hand and tugged the chamois bag from beneath his jersey.

Watersoaked, it hit the floor and spilled its imitation jewels. "Licked us from the start, last night. We'll take

Breaking off, Renright performed a sudden side leap, that came with remarkable speed. He hurled himself in

back of Jane Debrossler, snatched the girl from the floor and shoved her forward as a shield, toward the gun

At the same instant, Gilden swung his right hand downward. Timed with Renright's move, the man at the

The Gray Ghosts were in action. Each was on the move, eager to deal death to their superfoe, The Shadow.

Two enemies had acted simultaneously. Of the pair, Renright was more formidable, though both were

dangerous. Harry Vincent, had the choice been his, would have taken Renright first. The Shadow did the

The blackclad fighter fired for Gilden. He beat the lesser Gray Ghost to the shot. Gilden's gun spoke in

answer, but it was tilted upward when the murderer fired. The Shadow had clipped Gilden's gun arm; the man

Gilden screeched as he plunged down through the trapdoor, missing the ladder. There was a thud; he had

dropped into the motorboat beneath. The Shadow had settled Gilden for the moment; he had wheeled to deal

Had Harry Vincent paused one moment, he would have seen his proper course. A quick dive and he could

have gained Renright's revolver. With it, Harry could have sprung below to settle Gilden, if the fellow still

But Harry acted upon too quick an impulse. He saw Jane Debrossler in danger. Hoping to save the girl, he

Renright sprawled, carrying Jane with him. He snatched up the gun and swung an upward stroke at Harry.

The Shadow's agent warded off the blow and gripped Renright's arm. They floundered across the floor, Jane

Of three persons in the scuffle, two were ones whom The Shadow must save. For the present, he had no

chance to fire at Renright. The risk of hitting Harry or Jane was too great. The Shadow could only wait for a

From below, a motor chugged suddenly. One handed, Gilden had managed to prepare the getaway. The

Shadow could allow no further time. He sprang forward to join the melee on the floor. As he hit the fighters,

Renright swung Harry toward The Shadow and delivered a downward stroke with his revolver. The Shadow

stopped it short with an outthrust automatic. Harry sprawled sidewise; Renright gave an acrobatic heave and

The Shadow had dropped one .45; he caught his adversary with his free hand and sent Renright rolling

sidewise. Twisting to hands and knees, The Shadow came up for aim. His move had given him the chance to

beat Renright to the shot. That jujitsu twist had done its work: but the accomplishment proved too great.

Because of Renright's weight, The Shadow had given him a mammoth hurl. Rolling almost a dozen feet,

Renright had arrived half over the opened trapdoor. Instead of aiming for The Shadow, the twin Gray Ghost

shoved himself backward. As The Shadow aimed, Renright's left hand was his only target. The crook was

The Shadow fired, just as Renright's fingers left the edge of the trap. The bullet splintered woodwork; it

found no human flesh. The Shadow bounded forward; a motor roared as he reached the trapdoor. A steel

The light showed a pathway beside the channel below. Disregarding the ladder, The Shadow made a leap. He

dashed through the splintered barrier. He signaled in the path of a searchlight's beam. The Gray Ghosts had

whizzed out into the Sound; the searchlight was from another boat close by. The nose of a swift motor craft

By land or by water. The Shadow had mentioned that he had covered either path that Renright might take. He

had provided a boat to trail the crook to his lair. It had not been needed in the short trip, for Renright had

It was contact with the craft that had delayed The Shadow in his approach. Otherwise, he would have met the

Gray Ghosts earlier. The situation had changed; The Shadow's wisdom was proven. The Gray Ghosts were

The Shadow's boat was capable of greater speed than any other craft upon Long Island Sound.

Cliff Marsland was at the helm, Hawkeye beside him. Clyde Burke was by the motor. The swift boat carved

the water. It was following the path made by the wake ahead. The Gray Ghosts had gained a long lead,

The moonlight showed the chase. The Shadow, ready on the prow, had chosen a rifle as his weapon. Far

ahead, Renright was stationed at the stern of his craft, armed with a rifle of his own, while Gilden managed

the helm, onehanded. Marksmen were prepared for strife while the speedy boats ate the waves.

Rifles crackled. The battle had begun. Bullets zipped the water. At the speed with which the boats were

traveling, perfect aim was impossible. Renright fired from ahead; The Shadow responded. Neither bullet

Miles were scudding beneath the roaring speedboats. The Gray Ghosts hoped to reach the Connecticut shore

before The Shadow overtook them. The space was slowly diminishing. The Shadow's boat was creeping

Dead ahead, a ghostly mass enshrouded the waters of midchannel. It was fog, an heirloom of last night's

storm; a hazy embankment that bore the semblance of a lowlying hill. Neither the Gray Ghosts nor The

Shadow had expected to encounter that misty pall. It offered refuge to the Gray Ghosts.

Their boat was laden with swag, stored in watertight lockers. Practically unsinkable, the pelf was safe. To

cash it, the Gray Ghosts needed complete escape. The fog bank was their chance. It had stretched far out from

the Connecticut shore; it was creeping toward Long Island. Once within it, the Gray Ghosts could accomplish

the trick which they had performed before; a complete evanishment from the eyes of pursuers, even from the

Prone on the bow, The Shadow was ready with his rifle. He was holding fire until the Gray Ghosts reached

the fog bank, thus giving Cliff a chance to close the distance. Swiftly, the roaring speedboats neared the final

Renright must have guessed The Shadow's purpose. He opened a futile rapid fire from the stern of his boat.

Bullets ricocheted from the water, bouncing like skimmed stones. The Shadow's rifle spoke. It delivered shots

A figure popped up from the boat ahead. It spun about, then settled downward in the bottom of the craft. The

boat went twisting off its course. The Shadow had picked off one Gray Ghost: Pierce Gilden. Colin Renright

The Shadow's boat had gained tremendously during Renright's forced maneuvers. The pursuit was not ended.

Unless Renright changed his course immediately, he would be overhauled. Driving into the fog bank, The

Swallowed by the eerie mist, the pursuing craft kept straight ahead. It struck a stretch of lifting fog. The

Shadow, from the prow, caught a glimpse of Renright's boat, dead ahead. The Shadow motioned to Cliff,

The fog shuddered with a bass whistle, that quavered from somewhere off the starboard bow. A steamer was

plowing its course through the enveloping mist. The Shadow's keen ears sensed the right direction. His hands

As if governed by some magnetic hand of fate, a huge prow jammed from the cloud bank, straight in front of

Renright's speedboat. The little craft seemed to leap from the water to meet the oncoming steamship. There

was a crash that echoed through the fog. As Cliff swung the helm, The Shadow gazed to starboard.

Two figures had jounced wildly from the crash, tossed from the crackling shell of the shattered speedboat.

One was Gilden's; the other, Renright's. Neither could be distinguished in the beam of the steamship's

Gilden had died before Renright, dropped by a timely rifle bullet. Renright, the last Gray Ghost, had escaped

a similar doom to be shattered bodily by the steel prow that had struck through from the fog.

The hulk of the watertight speedboat had remained afloat; though the craft was riven almost in half, the air

compartments were sufficient to keep it on the surface. The steamship crew would find it and search for

identifying contents. Stolen swag was destined to be found. Wealth would be delivered in New York, restored

But no survivors would be brought aboard the steamship. Two bodies, only, would be discovered both

garbed in jerseys of gray, with lowered hoods. The Gray Ghosts had found their doom; murderers, they had

The Shadow's boat had turned about, it was chugging toward the Long Island shore; it cleared the fog.

Moonlight shone its brilliance upon The Shadow and the men who had aided him. There was something

significant in the glow that had so suddenly replaced the thickness of the fog. It told of The Shadow's

The Shadow himself had ended the beclouding factors that enshrouded crime. He had brought final light upon