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EVERYBODY on the crowded subway train seemed to be reading newspapers: their own or other people's.

That was what bothered Diane Marlow, the fact that somebody was looking over her shoulder, scanning the

The first two headlines didn't worry Diane; it was the third that bothered her, because she happened to be the

girl it meant. That in turn cast doubt upon the second headline, which didn't specify who was to be arrested,

Silly, this whole thing, but frightening. Diane's gloved hand clutched tighter on the subway strap and she

found herself gripping the newspaper so hard that it crumpled in her other hand. Hastily relaxing, she opened

Fortunately, this attracted no attention because of the lurch of the train. They were coming to a station and

Diane decided she could hang on for one stop more her stop. She was feeling faint, but that didn't matter.

Besides, Diane was realizing that she had more to learn and no time to waste in doing so. She needed to know

what details the newspaper contained, whether they were facts or not, so she steeled herself to the effort

Maybe the facts were right about the robber, but they didn't apply to the girl, as Diane could vouch if anyone

According to the newspaper, the police defined the robber as the same masked man who had entered a

brokerage office two days ago and forced the owner to hand over a batch of securities that were in his desk

Of course the robber had backed the operation with a gun, and this very afternoon he had repeated the process

by stalking into a jeweler's private office and demanding a very special jewel case, with its contents, which

In each instance, this daring character had made a very hurried departure, picking up a taxicab by flourishing

the gun in the driver's face. Outside the brokerage, however, he'd been forced to run half a block in order to

commandeer the cab, and he had evidently remembered that experience when he tackled the jewel job.

A cab had been waiting outside the jewelry shop. It was waiting because it had arrived with a passenger, a

girl who had offered the cabby a tendollar bill which he couldn't change. The girl was holding the cab while

she fumbled in her bag to find smaller money. The cabby hadn't suspected that the girl was stalling until the

They'd dropped off together, those two passengers, which made the cabby's theory valid. Except that the

cabby hadn't waited to see that the girl and the masked man hurried away in opposite directions, the gun

The girl was described as a fluffyhaired blonde attired in a fancy blue sport suit. At least none of the subway

passengers would tag Diane from that description, for it was raining outdoors and her hair had lost its fluff;

furthermore, Diane had changed from her sport outfit to an older, darkbrown dress that she reserved for bad

Besides, Diane wasn't smiling and jolly as she'd been early that afternoon. Right now, in the last minutes of

the rush hour, she wore a serious frown that gave her the tired look that only long office work can produce. In

fact, Diane was more than tired; she was grim, very grim indeed, as she left the train at her station, tucked the

This couldn't really be called Diane's station; it just happened to be the nearest stop to the address of Joey's

Shoe Parlor, the name on the card that Diane had scooped into her bag along with other things that were lying

on the cab seat. Since Diane had never before heard of Joey's Shoe Parlor, she was playing the hunch that the

And right now, the stakes had doubled where Diane Marlow was concerned. She'd started on this journey

hoping to gain some firsthand information before notifying the police regarding the jewel robber. Now she

wanted those same facts in order to clear her status as the unknown woman in the case.

The shoe parlor was the sort of basement establishment that Diane expected it to be. Joey also came up to

specifications; he was busy at his task and mumbled because his mouth was full of hobnails. Diane was

trying to smooth her hair and bending her head so the rain would drip from her hat; hence Joey didn't see her

"Not ready yet," declaimed Joey. "I said tomorrow I deliver. Me, I'm always prompt, I never kid a customer.

Besides, I say I deliver and that means I deliver. My boy Marcus, he'll be around tomorrow after school with

To prove his point, Joey not only gestured to the shoes but picked up the stub that was with them. Before

Diane could figure how to phrase the question she wanted to ask, Joey answered it.

"Apartment Number Two, Letter D, the Cedarcroft," announced Joey, referring to his scrawl on the stub. "I

keep good check on all repair jobs and satisfied customers will tell you same. New customers get good

The thump of the closing door and the jangle of the oldfashioned bell above it were the only answers that

Joey received. Diane was on her way, hoping to find the Cedarcroft within the next few blocks, which she

did. The apartment house consisted of two old residences converted into apartments and as Diane hoped, the

Taking the walkup to the second floor, Diane found Apartment 2D at the back of the building, its number

showing under the mediocre glow of a light in the hallway ceiling. Firmer than ever, Diane tightened her

There was a transom above, but no light showing from it. The wild notion of wriggling through that transom

crossed Diane's mind, but didn't make a dent. She'd been silly enough in the taxicab today, in an involuntary

way. No use of getting into trouble purposely. Visions of being stuck half way through the transom were

Still, it seemed foolish to have come here all for nothing. On that thought Diane decided that maybe the

downstairs vestibule would hold the answer. She hadn't looked for the name plates when she hurried through

the door; now it would be a good idea to go down and study them. But as Diane turned reluctantly toward the

stairs, she threw back a glance at the door of Apartment 2D and what she saw there halted her.

A bit of white was projecting from under the door and it looked like the corner of an envelope. Diane

pounced for the object, drew it her way and found that it actually was an envelope. In fact it was a letter that

the obliging janitor must have put under the door as part of the Cedarcroft service and it gave Diane her first

The envelope was addressed to one Lee Quade and it was specifically marked Apartment 2D. Hesitating

only briefly, Diane tore open the envelope, blew into it, and extracted its thin contents.

Thin, because the envelope didn't contain a letter; what it held was a slip of paper that Diane thought at first

must be a newspaper clipping until she discovered instead that it was part of a page cut from a child's book.

Even in the poor light, Diane could easily read the largeprint words that were common to most editions of

The rhyme was a familiar one that Diane found herself reading halfaloud, as a flashback to one of her own

Smiling as she finished the rhyme, Diane realized that this wasn't the time for smiles. Whatever he was, other

than a masked robber, Lee Quade wasn't the sort to be receiving nursery rhymes except as a gag; and anyone

who knew him well enough to joke with him, might well be the next stop along the trail that Diane had

"Old King Cole! It may mean the next person on the list! The next person that Quade is supposed to rob "

If Diane's eyes had been as busy as her thoughts, she would have noticed the darkness that was gradually

moving across the slip of paper that she held upon the opened envelope. But she saw nothing, heard nothing,

not even the slight creak beneath the frayed carpeting of the hallway floor, as a figure loomed behind that

Then came the sudden swoop of a hand, the clamp of a fist upon Diane's wrist. Before the girl could give

There was more than a snarl to support the order. Turning, Diane stared into hard eyes and recognized their

cold glisten as something she'd seen through the slits of a mask, that very afternoon. Even colder than the

That silencer was the muzzle of a .38 revolver, aimed squarely between the eyes of Diane Marlow!

CHILLED quite out of her wits, Diane couldn't even quiver at sight of the gun. She went numb all over and

Quade wasn't slow to recognize it. Disdainfully, the fellow dropped the girl's limp wrist and caught the

envelope with its attendant slip of paper, before the objects could drop from Diane's falling hand.

In professional style, Quade stepped back, keeping his gun trained on Diane, but at the same time he made a

half turn so that he could read the slip of paper. Evidently Quade understood the significance of the verse and

In her turn, Diane interpreting Quade, her stressed mind going in heavily for detail, curiously enough. He was

like something all offkey, this man Quade. He was handsome, but with just a brutal touch; dark, but with a

trace of the sallow. His eyes, though keen, were suspicious, while his smile had a bitter curl.

Those features were still evident, even when Quade turned his back to the light to focus fully on Diane. Oily

"Joey's Shoe Parlor," interrupted Quade. "You don't have to cover up for him unless you told him

It was the truth and it seemed the safest thing to say, for Diane could picture Quade's gun pumping away so

often that she'd no longer hear it, if he even suspected that she had blabbed. Quade's satisfied smile relieved

To that, Diane shook her head, but Quade must have caught some hesitancy, for he snarled, low:

"The only thing," replied Diane, surprised at her automatic answer. "It means somebody else you're supposed

"You're a cute guesser," confirmed Quade, as he thrust the envelope and the printed paper into his pocket.

With his same hand he brought out a key. "Only don't worry, kid. You're my accomplice or didn't you

"Then let's go in the apartment." Quade was unlocking the door, but keeping the gun well in hand. "We can

talk it over there. After all, you're in a jam like I am, even if it doesn't apply."

Why Diane hesitated on the threshold, she didn't quite yet realize. However, hesitation didn't help, for

Quade's gun muzzle found the middle of Diane's back with a nudge so earnest that she stumbled hastily

across the threshold. Next, Diane was in a corner where Quade gestured her as he nudged the door shut with

his elbow. Pocketing his key, he deftly transferred the gun from his right hand to his left and sat down at a

Juggling the gun lightly with his left, Quade dialed a number with his right. Then:

"This is Lee..." Quade evidently recognized the voice across the wire. "I'm back at my place... Yeah, I'm all

right, but the dame is here... The dame that was in the cab this afternoon... Yeah, she found out who I was...

"No, she says she hasn't blabbed... I guess if she had, the coppers would have shown here instead of her... Of

course she knows I pulled the jewel job, but she found out something else... That's right, she found the letter

There, Quade paused to let the other speaker have a chance. Diane could see the pleased glitter that swept the

man's hard eyes, in the light from the table lamp. At last, Quade's spreading grin seemed to set itself in ugly

"You know," said Quade, into the telephone, "you hit it right on the nose... That's right, the dame figured it

meant the next job I'm to do... Let the other boys handle it? Sure I will... A cinch, because the dame hasn't

Quade's final tone made Diane very uneasy, particularly when he hung up with a slam. Switching his gun

"You know what he said?" demanded Quade. "He said it didn't matter, your finding that letter. The boys will

clean up the next job before you can even tell the police to start guessing about King Cole. As for me, I'll

have time to lam before you can tell them about me either. They're likely to have me tagged pretty soon,

"So all I'm going to do is tie you up, nice and tight. That dress you're wearing looks strong enough to do for

rope and your scarf will make a good gag. Maybe you can work loose by morning and meanwhile you can

There was no reason for Quade to continue. Diane not only understood but realized now why she had faltered

when he started to shove her into the apartment. In here, shots would be muffled, which they wouldn't be in

the hall. All Quade would have to do would be to close one window which Diane had noticed was open.

Quade's last words across the telephone fitted. The phrase, "But she knows who I am" could well have been

Diane's death warrant. It wasn't mercy on Quade's part that Diane was going to live, but just simple common

"I'm to use my own judgment," stated Quade. "That's what I was told over the telephone. Since my own

judgment says it's quieter to tie you up than shoot you, I'm letting you live. Only remember, screams make

This time, Diane was observing the blackness that accompanied Quade's approach. His back was toward the

lamp, blocking off its light and the whole room seemed to darken, including the open window. Maybe Quade

had forgotten that the window was open, but it wouldn't help if he had. Diane didn't care if people heard

There was something monstrous, grotesque about Quade as his hand stretched out in the darkness that his

bulking form produced. Just managing to repress a scream, Diane wrenched away instinctively as that hand

clutched the neck of her dress. The result was that Quade's grip produced a ripping tug and he snarled again

Not from Diane, but from somewhere in the outer darkness, a screech that transformed itself into the long,

Diane came full about at that, horrified and rigid, with her arms spread against the wall. Quade saw her as a

figure hung with tattered sleeves, then lifted his gun toward the girl's wide, frozen eyes that looked like a

Quade's judgment now was death, for that approaching wail symbolized that Diane had lied when she said

she hadn't told; and having told too much too soon, she could tell something more and also too soon

should she live. A spurt of flame was due from that gun muzzle that barely glittered as it thrust forward from

A death spurt would have flashed if the surrounding blackness hadn't hurled itself more swiftly. To Diane,

Quade's aim ended with a jolt that sent him flying upward, backward, gun first. By the time he tugged the

trigger, his gun merely spouted, for its target was the ceiling. Writhing, flaying madly at nothingness, Quade

seemed a portion of Diane's distorted notions until he finished with a sideward reel that took him from the

Then Diane saw that blackness was alive. It had transformed itself into a cloaked figure of a tall, limber

fighter who wore a slouch hat, and who was swinging a heavy automatic with a gloved fist, to meet the wild

Loud came the wail of the approaching siren, like the howl of some wandering banshee, announcing that the

impossible had become real. Such was Diane's impression of her first meeting with this rescuer known as The

GROTESQUE against the lamplight, Quade and his halfvisible antagonist gave the slow, dreamlike effect

of figures cavorting in the glare of a blinking spotlight. The Shadow's turns and twists were responsible for

Every time The Shadow came in front of Quade, the latter disappeared, only to come in sight again, like

something disgorged by space, whenever The Shadow completed the roundabout. Of course then The

Thus it was from Diane's outlook and with her distorted view came the equally fantastic accompaniment of

arriving wails that no longer seemed like police sirens, but rather the cries of ghouls, penetrating to what had

Sirens they were, however, and Quade knew it, which was why he kept punctuating his struggle with

gunshots that The Shadow constantly diverted toward the ceiling. Along with the low, taunting laugh that

The Shadow used as a retort for every shot, the figure in black was becoming snowy.

The reason was the plaster that showered from the ceiling under the urge of Quade's wasted bullets. It was

indeed odd, the way The Shadow was becoming a living statue, growing out of nothingness. Quade seemed

Shrill whistles now, and shouts. The pound of footsteps coming up into the apartment house. Quade's shots

had been heard, the police weren't losing time in getting to their goal. True to Quade's own fear, as expressed

Slugging hard with his now empty gun, Quade missed The Shadow completely. In fact, The Shadow wasn't

there at all; the object that stopped Quade's lunge was the table with the lamp. Both crashed and as the light

In that last fleeting moment, Diane saw a huge mass of blackness grow in her direction. It loomed to vast

proportions, only to be suddenly absorbed by the complete darkness that filled the room. Diane forgot that

The Shadow was a friend and began the longrestrained scream that Quade had warned against.

The scream was smothered and Diane was whirled by swift, powerful hands, over to the window, where,

suddenly released, she found herself teetered on the sill, aimed for a forward pitch into the drizzly darkness of

the courtyard below. Something vaulted past her, but Diane didn't realize it in her mad effort to halt her

Diane failed. Overbalanced, she went headlong, delayed but briefly as her torn dress caught on a window

catch and then gave. She landed squarely in the same strong arms that had hauled her to the window, for it

was The Shadow who had gone past her, to be ready below. Then, like something she seemed to be leaving

behind her, Diane could hear the clicks of her own high heels as The Shadow rushed her out through a narrow

passage which he seemingly discovered through some radar sense that was peculiarly his own.

As if on schedule, a taxicab rolled up, took Diane as a passenger under The Shadow's rapid urge, and whisked

away, picking a zigzag course through the next few blocks, to avoid converging police cars. All during that

mad race, Diane thought she could hear the echoes of The Shadow's parting laugh, a tone so encouraging,

Amazement was Diane's when the cab reached a lighted avenue and she looked for the mysterious personage

There was still work for The Shadow, back at Quade's. This was one of those instances where the police,

gaining a lead to a suspected criminal, had started on their quest only to be preceded by The Shadow. In

rescuing Diane, The Shadow had let the law catch up; now his purpose was to block off Quade should the

Except that escape was no longer Quade's idea. Climbing from the wreckage of the table, he was gripping the

heavy metal lamp that his hand had found in the darkness. The door was crashing under the ramming efforts

of the police and Quade's mad, vengeful mind was concentrated on repelling those invaders.

As the door burst, hurtling men inward with it, Quade sprang into the light that poured dimly from the hall

and swung the lamp like a great bludgeon, intending to brain a few adversaries before they could stop him.

Cloaked shoulders were coming up above the windowsill and with his timely return The Shadow

despatched an equally timely shot that jolted Quade's arm in midair, diverting the downsweep of the lamp.

The invading police were timely too; their shots came a few split seconds after The Shadow's. But as the

persons menaced, the police didn't draw a line at merely stopping Quade's swing. They stopped him with it,

The Shadow eased down into the darkness, listening intently to what followed. The police were dragging

Quade into the light; in searching him for a reserve gun, they found the envelope and its printed slip

pertaining to King Cole. His head halflifted, Quade stared with glazed eyes and coughed spasmodic words.

"Try and help King Cole." The broken tone still carried Quade's characteristic snarl. "It won't do any good

A sturdy police inspector was hauling Quade's ashen face up into the light. From the window, The Shadow

recognized the swarthy, deadpan countenance of Joe Cardona, top man among inspectors.

"You're going to live, Quade," Cardona emphasized. "So whatever you tell us now may be used for you,

instead of against you. We figured there were others beside you. If they're aiming to rob somebody tonight,

Quade's curling lips set tightly; then relaxed. His eyes went shut and his voice came with a wheeze.

"You're lying, Joe," gasped Quade. "Lying and you know it. I'm through so it won't help me whatever I

"Go on," prompted Cardona. "I want to know about the job. Who's this King Cole that's being robbed

Letting Quade's stiffening body thump the floor, Cardona pounced for the telephone and called headquarters.

"Instruct all patrol cars," announced Cardona. "Tell them to check all neighborhoods for clues to a robbery

that may be under way right now, if it isn't already done. Particularly wealthy neighborhoods and another

thing check on apartment houses and hotels, in case the crime is happening there.

"Pay special attention to any phone calls that come in, even if they do sound screwy. Somebody may spot

something and try to inform us. Let me know of any developments. I'll give you the number where you can

Reading off the number of Quade's phone, Cardona hung up and gave a stolid stare at the dead man. Quade

wouldn't have liked that look if he'd been alive to see it. Mechanically, Cardona flipped the paper that bore

"Like finding a needle in a haystack," gruffed Joe, "and the only man who can tell us what it's good for, can't

talk." Wheeling to the surrounding cops, Cardona snapped the order: "Search the place! Look for the stolen

stuff if it's still here. But more important, see what you can find that will give us a lead to the next job!"

The police were ransacking the room with no success when the phone bell jangled. Cardona caught it at the

end of the first ring. The call was from headquarters and what Cardona heard put him into prompt action.

"Let's go!" Joe told the officers. "They just got word of the robbery that links with the King Cole message.

Old Artemus Hapwood, the chain store owner, found bound and gagged in his house off Park Avenue. His

safe was rifled" Cardona stared again at Quade "and I'll bet it traces to this guy and his crowd!"

By the time the police were on their way, the courtyard was as vacant as the window above it. As before, The

THE Hapwood residence was ablaze with light when Inspector Cardona reached it and outside was standing a

big official car which belonged to Police Commissioner Weston. Swarthyfaced Joe wasn't pleased when he

saw the Commissioner's car, but he contented himself with the thought that he would have his innings later.

Entering the house, Cardona reached the living room and found Commissioner Weston already in conference

with Artemus Hapwood. The living room was ample and so was Hapwood, but Cardona was more interested

That pleased the commissioner, because he had expected it. A man of efficiency to the points of his military

mustache, Commissioner Weston liked his subordinates to be thorough in their work and Cardona wasn't

disappointing him. Eyes roving the room, Cardona took in everything and finally settled on the chair where

"Very good, inspector," approved Weston, briskly. "I expected you here, so I preserved the scene intact. Mr.

Hapwood was right where you see him now when we released him." Big and portly, Hapwood was

occupying the only chair that was really large enough to hold him. It was a heavy chair and well upholstered,

but the arms were separate, not part of the chair proper. Noting trunk straps lying beside the chair, Cardona

recognized that they must have been used to bind Hapwood's arms and legs, while a large silk handkerchief,

Beside the chair was a table with a telephone, but that didn't interest Cardona as much as a lowbuilt serving

stand on which stood a bottle with a huge brandy glass and an oversized meerschaum pipe beside it, plus a

Weston seemed annoyed when Cardona neglected the telephone. To Hapwood, the commissioner said:

"Tell the inspector everything that happened and how you managed to call for help."

"The bounders caught me unaware," boomed Hapwood, lifting his double chin. "There were two of them,

"I'd just finished a phone call," announced Hapwood. "Not here, but upstairs. Talked to a couple of business

associates, you know, like I often do. I came downstairs wanting a drink and a smoke, never thinking the

"Three," replied Hapwood. "They'll all have excuses, I'm careless that way. However, while I was shouting

that I wanted a smoke and a drink, who answered but these masked chaps. I looked up and there they were."

To illustrate, Hapwood looked toward the door and fixed his gaze there. Weston turned to see a tall man who

"Hello, Cranston!" exclaimed the commissioner. "I was sure you would get the message that I left at the club.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Weston completed the introduction. Hapwood, a man of big business, had

naturally heard of Cranston, the gentleman about town who had a singular ability for investing in curious

enterprises that always paid off. But Hapwood and Cranston formed a striking contrast.

Big of neck, paunch, face and hands; Hapwood had all the makings of a jolly fat man, except that he was very

serious at present, though he did allow a smile to spread across his massive face at the rare privilege of being

In his turn, Cranston was tall, with a calm face that was as impassive as a mask. He looked positively thin at

the present moment, but that was only because of the contrast with Hapwood. When Hapwood extended his

hand like a seal's flipper to receive Cranston's long, thinfingered shake, Cardona wasn't surprised to see the

fat man wince. There was plenty of steel in that grip of Cranston's, as Cardona knew from experience.

Since Weston often called Cranston in on cases like this, Cardona didn't connect the commissioner's friend

with events at Quade's. There was a link, however, in the form of a long stretch of blackness on the floor,

ending in a hawkish silhouette. But Cardona wasn't thinking of Cranston's shadow in terms of a personage

called The Shadow, who so far as Cardona knew hadn't figured in connection with the recent robberies.

Cardona didn't know that when he'd phoned Weston very recently regarding the lead to Quade, that Cranston

had just been leaving the commissioner's office. The lead had come from a stool pigeon and Cranston often

checked such information when it was relayed to Weston, but on that point too Cardona was ignorant.

"There's the smoke and the drink" Hapwood pointed to the pipe and the brandy "but I wasn't to get them.

The masked men threatened me with guns as soon as I shouted for my three servants. Then they bound me in

"After that, they broke open my safe" Hapwood gave a depreciating gesture to the item that he named

"and took everything that was in it. Nothing of value, however, because my business associates hadn't

Cardona studied the safe and understood why Hapwood didn't rate it highly. The thing looked more like a

phonograph cabinet than a safe, and it conformed to the furniture in the room. Three good prods with a jimmy

"They took a lot of papers," remarked Hapwood "Letters, estimates, price lists but mostly old stuff. They

"The oldfashioned kind were better," he argued. "The type without dials. I lifted the phone off the hook with

my teeth and in the old days, I'd have gotten the operator. This time I had to dial.

"I did it, though." Hapwood swelled with pride. "I did it with my nose. The silk gag is thin, otherwise I

wouldn't have been able to use my teeth to lift the phone, and being thin, the gag was something I could

With that, Hapwood relaxed in his chair, picked up the silk gag and rubbed his forehead with it. Reaching for

the brandy, the big man poured himself a drink which, though sizeable, looked pitifully tiny in the mammoth

"I made the call upstairs at eight o'clock," stated Hapwood. "Tarval and Alcott they're my associates were

at the Hotel Metrolite. I told them to keep the money until tomorrow. When I came downstairs it was about

ten minutes after eight. I guess I was all trussed up by quarterpast and those robbers couldn't have stayed

more than five minutes after that. Anyway, it was halfpast eight when I put the call through."

"The operator checked the time," put in Weston. "You can make a note of that, Inspector."

Jotting with his pencil, Cardona was watching Hapwood finish his brandy. With his other fat hand, the big

man was reaching for his pipe. Then, laying the glass aside, Hapwood opened the humidor and stuffed

tobacco into the meerschaum. Lighting the pipe, he drew a good supply of smoke and sat back quite

"All's well that ends well," decided Hapwood. "I'll leave the capture of those criminals to the law. Only

there's one thing" he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to a twinkle "don't try to connect this case with

those other robberies you're tracking down, those stolen bonds and jewels. There wasn't just one masked man

here tonight; there were two. What's more, they didn't get what they came after."

"I get it, Mr. Hapwood," returned Cardona, displaying a rare thing for him, a grin. "It's funny, isn't it, the way

Cardona was actually laughing now and Hapwood was catching the mood. Once Hapwood started to laugh,

"Nobody ever thinks they're wrong." Hapwood was shaking, undulating from his fat paunch up to his heavy

jowl. "That reminds me of a very funny story, if you want to hear it. It's about a king who could do no wrong

"The merry old soul," broke in Cardona. "He called for his pipe" Joe pointed to the meerschaum "and he

called for his bowl" here Cardona gestured to the brandy glass "and how many servants do you have,

"Because they're the Fiddlers Three," returned Cardona. "You called for them like you did for your

"Look here, inspector," began the commissioner, "when you start analyzing crime in terms of nursery rhymes

"Only I didn't start it," returned Cardona. "Somebody else did, the man behind these robberies, in other

words, the brain. Here's the message that he mailed to Lee Quade, covering tonight's job, commissioner."

A full minute later, Weston was still staring at the clipped page of the Mother Goose book, while Lamont

Cranston, calm and impassive as ever, was gazing at Cardona, who stood with arms triumphantly folded.

There was approval in Cranston's eyes, those eyes that were really The Shadow's, a commendation of the

LATE the next afternoon, Diane Marlow had a date with a gentleman named Lamont Cranston. It was a very

important date, as Diane had learned through devious channels. Technically, Diane was still a fugitive from

justice, which had a great deal to do with her acceptance of certain terms now in force.

As she sat with Cranston over cocktails in the lounge at the Hotel Metrolite, Diane briefly reviewed events

Diane wasn't stopping at the Metrolite. The cab had taken her to another and quieter hotel, where the cabby

had told her she was expected. In the room reserved for her, Diane had received a mysterious phone call

stating that "our man" would phone her before noon the next day and would help her with her problems.

Today the call had come from "our man" who had turned out to be a gentleman named R. Mann, the initial

standing for Rutledge. He was an investment broker who told Diane that he could recommend "certain

securities" which was another statement that could be taken two ways. So Diane had gone to Mann's office,

found him to be a methodical, owlish person who talked in encouraging terms and finally arranged her

All this, Diane was sure, had been engineered by the mysterious rescuer known as The Shadow, a descriptive

term that Diane automatically applied to him. Diane had proven so willing to accept guarded advice, that by

"Three robberies," reviewed Cranston. "The police found the important link and broke it; Lee Quade."

"You might do as a temporary," replied Cranston, blandly. "You don't link with crime, but you do link with

"Because Quade knew too much. The police did his associates a favor by eliminating him. But for all Quade's

"Then they should find out," analyzed Cranston. "That will make them show their hands. You will then prove

instrumental in bringing them to justice and that will clear you of any suspicion of complicity, in the mind of

"Very simply," Cranston replied. "Forget the first two robberies for the present. Somebody's bonds were

stolen from a broker's office; somebody else's gems taken from a jeweler. There's a bit of a mystery in both

cases; the owners of the stolen goods claim Quade didn't take much of value. Description of the loot is vague

and Quade didn't have any of it at his place. Therefore we can assume that he passed it to his two

"That's right," smiled Cranston. "But let us refer to him as Artemus Hapwood, since the Mother Goose angle

is still unknown to the public. I was just fortunate enough to hear about it through my friend, the police

The reference to the commissioner pleased Diane. It made her feel that her future task would be semiofficial

at least and that Cranston would vouch for whatever she did, should the law prove quizzical.

"Robbery failed at Hapwood's," continued Cranston, "because two men had not yet delivered certain funds

that they owed him. The names of those two men are Roy Tarvel and Oscar Alcott. They are staying here at

"Possibly. Tarvel and Alcott are buying up some of Hapwood's chain stores, since he has decided to retire

from that business. Only I am not too sure that Tarvel and Alcott intend to go into that business themselves."

Diane looked in the direction that Cranston indicated with an ashflick of his thin cigar. She saw two men

chatting at a table; one middleaged, the other youthful. They were distinctly different, for the older man was

serious, bushybrowed and glowery, while the younger looked genial, handsome and carefree.

Nevertheless, they had one quality in common. Both were brawny of build. The older man looked like a

football coach who had been a star fullback in his day, talking to a protege who rated as a modern gridiron

ace. Diane's mind was running to such terms when Cranston interrupted her thoughts.

"The older man," stated Cranston, "is Winslow Thorne, who hopes to build up a chain store empire larger

than Hapwood's ever was. He is worth a few million dollars and that is why he looks so grouchy."

"The younger man," added Cranston, "is Rex Cardiff, the black sheep who squandered his share of a very

Laughing lightly, Diane halted suddenly, realizing that this might be much more serious than she supposed.

"It has been hinted," continued Cranston, "that Tarvel and Alcott, the men who bought some of Hapwood's

chain store holdings, are merely middlemen or more crudely, speculators who intended to unload at a

That rang home to Diane. Her eyes drifted in the direction of the glowery man, while Cranston, his words in

"Winslow Thorne would be a logical buyer, since he has always envied the Hapwood chain. But we mustn't

forget that Artemus Hapwood is a rather cagey gentleman himself. He certainly didn't build his enterprises

"I see," said Diane slowly. "He may have sold those few stores just to see where they eventually wind up."

"Exactly," agreed Cranston, "and if they landed with Rex Cardiff, member of a very wealthy family, it might

"Something of the sort is in the wind. I can't see any other reason why those two should be together."

Neither could Diane, the more she looked at them. Thorne was all business, vehemently so, as he leaned

across his table and pounded a healthy fist against the flat of his other palm. Cardiff, in contrast, looked

carefree and indifferent, wearing a smile that reminded Diane of the Jack of Hearts, the sort of smile that was

"Conclusions are dangerous things," came Cranston's calmtoned opinion. "There could be another reason

behind that curious association of Thorne and Cardiff, something else that they might be trying to cover up.

In any case, it brings us back to Tarvel and Alcott" there was a slight pause in Cranston's voice "and their

Before Diane could begin new calculations, Cranston carried his own theme further.

"They are holding a dinner tonight," stated Cranston. "Tarvel and Alcott. It will be your opportunity to meet

"You will be," assured Cranston. "They're important people now, those two. You'll realize it when you see

"Of course. They represent money either their own or someone else's and those are the kind of guests

Diane's query brought a slight smile from Cranston. His response simulated indifference.

"I have another engagement," he declared. "A very important one; I might even term it a mission. However I

have delegated a certain gentleman to meet you at the party. He will introduce himself."

"By the flowers you will be wearing. They are waiting at this shop" Cranston handed Diane a florist's card

"and you can stop by for them, or have them delivered to your hotel, as you prefer."

They were leaving now, Diane and Cranston at the latter's gesture, and it seemed good policy, since so far

neither Thorne nor Cardiff had looked their way and it would be better that they should not recall Diane as

somebody they had seen, when they came to meet her at the party. As they reached the street, where Cranston

"If you mean you're investigating those robberies" Diane's tone was breathless "you certainly should tell

Diane's eyes widened as Cranston helped her in the cab that he had just captured.

"Looking through old documents?" she queried in parting. "The sort that might provide a new clue?"

"The very sort," assured Cranston. Then, closing the cab door, he added through the window: "If you need

me, I can be reached in the children's section, looking over the various editions of Mother Goose."

To anyone else, that might have seemed a jest, but Diane heard it with a shudder. It was a reminder that crime

If crime did strike, Diane could only hope that she would have another meeting with The Shadow!

THE attractive brunette who entered the florist's shop gave a pleased glance at the corsage of violets that was

lying on a certain shelf. The brunette's name was Margo Lane and she was very fond of Lamont Cranston,

Not having seen Lamont all day, Margo had heard about him from friends who had seen him. Those friends

had made slight mention of a blonde in Cranston's company, hoping no doubt to stir Margo's jealousy.

With robberies rampant, Margo knew that Cranston would be on the trail. When it came to adding the

feminine touch to crime hunting, Margo felt the privilege was hers. It looked as though she had been shelved,

"Sorry, Miss Lane!" The fussy florist was there in a jiffy. "Those weren't left for you. Someone is stopping by

The florist halted, very much confused. Margo straightened everything with a light laugh.

"I know all about it," she said. "The girl is a friend of mine. I told Lamont to order some flowers for her, but

never violets! Those miniature roses would be much better. She really loves roses, but of course Lamont

So the miniature roses went on the shelf where Cranston's orders were always placed, but Margo didn't wait

to meet her friend. Instead she stayed across the street, watching for the first blonde customer who came out

Thus Margo took up Diane's trail, right to the Hotel Metrolite and up to the private dining room where

It wasn't difficult to crash the gate, not for anyone like Margo. In fact, she was promptly welcomed by a

dapper gentleman who introduced himself as Roy Tarvel and took it for granted that Margo was one of the

Margo wasn't greatly impressed. Tarvel was a flimsy lightweight with a pussycat mustache that accentuated

his silly smirk. Brushing him off, Margo thought she had accomplished something until she met Oscar Alcott.

This gentleman was as short as Tarvel but looked more so because of his stubby build. He was bulbous,

bulging from his tuxedo vest and wingtip collar, which looked as though he hadn't worn them for years.

Alcott specialized in what was technically called an ogle and Margo liked neither his gaze nor his grin.

Resisting the notion of patting Alcott on his bald head and telling him to run along, Margo decided she

Gentlemen preferred blondes and if Diane, the unknown blonde, thought these were gentlemen, she was

welcome to them. In fact, Margo wished she'd let Diane have her violets until, outside the dining room,

He was a friend of Cranston, this young man, which meant he also was an agent of The Shadow. Where

Harry went things often happened, which pleased Margo that much more, particularly when Harry drew her

"I'm comparatively such," returned Margo, "considering how long it's been since I've seen you."

"Let's get acquainted again," suggested Harry, "while we go in and introduce ourselves."

"I have already," said Margo. "What's more, I've been looking at the placecards on the table. There are none

This was literally true. What Margo didn't add was that she had seen a placecard bearing Cranston's name.

She felt sure that Lamont had arranged for Harry to take his place, but there was no use pressing that opinion.

The regular dining room was just across the corridor and Margo was quite sure that she and Harry could keep

excellent tabs on persons who attended the private party, particularly those who came late or left early.

She promptly sold Harry on that idea, playing on his ignorance of the situation and meanwhile thinking what

In the private dining room, Diane had found her place card. It was a cute contrivance bearing her name and

with it a pasted clipping from a newspaper comic that bore a sketch of a blonde girl. All the placecards were

pasted up with quips, though who had arranged this, Diane didn't know. Certainly neither Tarvel nor Alcott

was responsible; not only did they lack imagination and humor, they were paying for the party and expected

To Diane's right was the card with Cranston's name, bearing the caricature that went with a brand of

cigarettes, showing a gentleman in high silkhat and monocle. On the left, Diane saw a card that made her

A laugh responded and looking up, Diane saw Cardiff himself. He was taller than Diane had supposed and

brawny in proportion. Cardiff was handsome too, though at close range, his face showed the sag of

dissipation. Cardiff corrected that when he smiled, even though Diane still thought of the Jack of Hearts.

"That's me," chuckled Cardiff, "just the perennial boy scout. A good deed a day is my motto. Come to think

of it" he snapped his fingers "I'm still short today's good deed. Any suggestions?"

"Maybe we can think up one later," Cardiff decided. "You've done yours, just by meeting me. Don't go away,

Diane shook her head. Glancing past her, Cardiff saw a waiter removing Cranston's place card. He gave

"That makes it official," Cardiff declared. "I'm your escort for the evening. So come along, Miss Rose Petals,

That facetious reference to Diane's flowers was just the touch that convinced her that Cardiff was the man she

was supposed to meet. Cranston had specified neither who the man would be, nor what flowers Diane would

wear as token of recognition. Apparently, Cranston liked to spring surprises and this was really one, Diane

Still, it fitted with Diane's notions, when she considered it. Cranston wanted to get at the heart of things and

certainly Cardiff was a lead to Winslow Thorne, the man who rated as Artemus Hapwood's rival.

They met Thorne as they strolled around the table and Cardiff, having learned Diane's real name by that time,

introduced her casually to the chain store magnate. As with Cardiff, Diane was impressed by Thorne's brawn,

particularly because Thorne was older. When Thorne turned to chat with Tarvel and Alcott, he really towered

in comparison. If measured by cubic standards, Thorne's bulk probably exceeded the combined proportions of

Since Cardiff was still on the rove, Diane thought it polite to follow along. Having finished introductions,

Cardiff began glancing at placecards where chairs were still vacant. He looked at one; then suddenly his

"I won't say don't look now," undertoned Cardiff, "since everybody else is looking. But in case you don't

Following Cardiff's gaze, Diane saw the celebrity in question. A star of too many years ago, the famous Miss

Brandom was still beautiful, away from strong light, which she had a trick of avoiding. The trick lay in her

jewels; they fairly scintillated. A trifle on the plump side, Miss Brandom counted on the jewels to discount

"She's stopping here at the Metrolite," Cardiff told Diane. "Of course she'd be invited to this party and you

can be sure she wouldn't refuse. Brandom still tries to please her public what's left of it."

Miss Brandom was swishing around the end to reach her side of the table, which was opposite where Cardiff

and Diane belonged. Cardiff nudged Diane as a hint they'd better be going, but Diane couldn't resist a look at

Attached to the card that bore the name Miss Brandom was a clipping of an unusual sort, though Diane had

seen its like before. Not from a newspaper, but from a book, that clipping. It was in rhyme, the familiar

Those words were still running through Diane's thoughts when Cardiff piloted her around to her chair. Once

seated, Diane could only stare at Miss Brandom, or more specifically at the great, jeweled brooch that formed

The brooch was platinum and the setting was accentuated by sparkling diamonds. But diamonds weren't all;

the brooch bore pearls, large handsome ones. Finally, it was studded with rubies, that added a glowing red to

"If I think what you think," that low voice said, "there's somebody's target for tonight. And I mean somebody

"I'd be doing my good deed," added Cardiff, his tone still suppressed, "if I told you to stop staring before

people credit you with too many ideas. But I'll save that deed for Miss Brandom, provided you want to help.

Wrenching her gaze from the glitter, Diane concentrated on a plate of turtle soup, but sidled a nod to Cardiff,

between spoonfuls. With Cardiff, Diane felt sure she could help stop crime if it struck tonight.

DINNER was over and with its courses, Diane Marlow felt that she had fully digested the facts of crime.

Behind crime, of course, was a brain belonging to some person of importance who knew enough about

various prominent people to learn where their valuables were going to be at specified times.

This brain used a compact organization, and at first the man assigned to actual robbery had been Lee Quade.

Bold, daring and speedy, Quade had whisked away a batch of bonds and a stack of jewels on two separate

Doubtless there had been Mother Goose messages on those two occasions, but neither had turned up. The

first evidence of such had come when two other workers had been assigned in Quade's stead to rob Artemus

Now crime was due again tonight, of that Diane was likewise positive, for a new Mother Goose order was on

Starting with Roy Tarvel and Oscar Alcott, Diane immediately marked those puny men as ineligibles. She

had read the newspaper accounts of the Hapwood robbery and remembered that Hapwood had been talking to

those two customers by telephone just before masked men invaded his home and that Tarvel and Alcott had

Diane had noted specially that Hapwood testified that he was the person who made the call. Diane prided

herself on checking that point, for it proved that Tarvel and Alcott must have been at the Metrolite. Even a

To even think of drab characters like Tarvel and Alcott as clever was worth a smile. As for regarding them as

crooks, that was doubly ridiculous, since it was their undelivered money that robbers had sought at

Hapwood's and again their physical proportions could not compare with Hapwood's description of the two

Looking over the other guests, Diane naturally thought in terms of pairs, which brought back recollections of

Winslow Thorne and Rex Cardiff in conference that afternoon. Here again was a stickler.

Thorne impressed Diane by his selfimportance and Cardiff was squared by the fact that he had fulfilled

specifications as the man Diane was to meet. As Cranston's friend, Cardiff had a clean bill that naturally

It just happened that as yet Diane didn't know she was supposed to be wearing violets instead of miniature

Indeed, Diane had forgotten all about the corsage, so intrigued was she with the Brandom jewels. Inspired by

champagne, the actress began to sparkle with the gems and Diane soon forgot the other guests. They were too

Somehow, Diane's judgment was convincing her that whoever intended to rob Miss Brandom must be some

Having left the table, the guests were now standing in groups and Diane approached a little cluster consisting

of Tarvel, Alcott and Thorne. It was obvious that the first two were talking to the third in terms of chain

"We might sell," Diane heard Tarvel say, "but frankly, Mr. Thorne, we haven't reached that point."

"Absolutely not," put in Alcott. "In fact we haven't paid Hapwood for our first buy."

"Because we want to buy more," added Tarvel. "I told Oscar here" he waved a glass at Alcott "that if

"And I said to Roy" Alcott bowed to Tarvel "that he ought to take up the matter tonight."

"I'm going over there now," decided Tarvel. "You take care of the party, Oscar."

"Certainly, Roy," Alcott acquiesced. "You'd better hurry, because old Hapwood turns in at nine o'clock.

"Only don't tell Hapwood." Thorne's voice carried a suppressed boom and was particularly meant for Tarvel.

"I don't want him to get a wrong impression. I buy from anybody who has what I want and will sell at a fair

price. I'd even buy from Hapwood, if he would let me in that mausoleum he calls a house."

Tarvel left and Alcott ended the conference with Thorne in order to mingle among the guests. Probably ten

minutes had passed before Diane found Cardiff at her elbow. He had something important to say.

"Miss Brandom is leaving," undertoned Cardiff. "We'd better start the convoy work."

"I'll go up to her suite," explained Cardiff. "I think I can get in by the outside balcony. You follow her and

"Ask her for an autograph, or anything. Just make sure that nobody else is in the place."

That sounded fair enough, but as Cardiff was leaving, Diane overtook him and asked:

"Why do you think I'm asking you to get chummy with Brandom?" returned Cardiff, with one of his playing

card smiles. "To square me, of course, if anybody challenges me. I'll explain that we were trying to prevent a

That satisfied Diane until it was just too late for her to overtake Cardiff again. Then Diane had the sinking

sensation that maybe she wouldn't be believed if the pinch came. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell Cardiff that,

A safe enough game it seemed, however, since Diane was sure that Cranston was behind it, which meant The

The departure of Mary Brandom brought goodnight bows from all the guests, and Thorne, in his big way,

shoved forward to act in the capacity of host, though the duty belong to Alcott. Thorne made quite a figure as

he clasped the hand of the actress and touched it with his lips. During that drama, Diane sidled past and was

Quite aglow from the party, Miss Brandom hardly noticed Diane. They rode in the elevator together, a mere

two flights up. Following the actress from the elevator, Diane lingered until Miss Brandom had unlocked the

"You're Miss Brandom, aren't you?" inquired Diane, enthusiastically. "I was sure I recognized you."

"I'd just love to have your autograph," added Diane. "In ink, of course on this."

What Diane produced from her purse was the Contrary Mary place card that had been on the table, but Diane

Always kind to her remaining public, Miss Brandom asked Diane into the suite and began turning on lights.

She hadn't recognized Diane as someone from the dinner party and in the intermittent light, scarcely noticed

the face of this admirer. Remembering that she had a fountain pen on her dressing table, Miss Brandom went

there; then, sensing the burden of her jewels, she removed them before looking for the pen.

Meanwhile, Diane was looking toward a closed window, where a balcony rail showed outside the large pane,

Cardiff was, as events were to prove; but first there was an interruption, in fact, several.

The first was the ringing of the telephone bell. Miss Brandom answered it, held a short chat and smiled at

"An old admirer," declared Miss Brandom. "I met him again this evening. It is nice to meet old admirers."

"Might I use your telephone?" she inquired. "Only for a moment. I have someone that I ought to call."

"An admirer?" queried Miss Brandom, turning toward the dressing table, which was across the room.

The telephone had a long extension cord, so Diane was able to take it through the doorway into the other

room. The number she called was the public library; she'd looked up that number earlier. Asking for the

children's department, Diane got it, and said she wanted to speak to Mr. Cranston.

The wait that followed was painful to Diane. It was to be a longer wait than she supposed; in fact, she wasn't

going to talk to Cranston until tomorrow. There were other things that were to enliven the present.

At this moment, there were certain other factors that were to bear out their importance. Not just that Rex

Cardiff was out on the balcony; that was something already planned. More important was the fact that the

Brandom jewels were still on the dressing table; in looking for her fountain pen, Mary Brandom was actually

But most important was the closing of the outer door, the one that led in from the corridor. Diane heard it and

was a trifle startled; but she couldn't see the door itself, because it was beyond a little anteroom. The person

who saw the door close was Margo Lane, as she came up the stairway leading to this floor, with Harry

Harry didn't see the door close because he was looking down the stairs, under the impression that someone

was following them. But Margo turned Harry's attention to the Brandom apartment.

"Look!" exclaimed Margo. "That's the Brandom apartment and someone just went in there! It couldn't be

Mary Brandom; she'd be in the place by now, because we saw her go up in the elevator, wearing all her

jewels. I'm sure she's the person they're going to rob, so we'd better get in there right away!"

Harry reached the door and began to rattle the knob, only to find it latched. The idea of making a more

forcible entry didn't occur to him until a few seconds later. Then, anything was justified.

For, through the door came a wild, excited scream, in the voice of Mary Brandom, a screech that was echoed

At that instant, every light in the Brandom suite had been suddenly extinguished!

Since her experience with Quade, Diane had practically outgrown the screaming habit, but hearing the insane

Diane clanked the receiver on that one. She didn't care what might be happening in the children's department

at the public library. Anyway, Cranston couldn't help even if Mann brought him to the telephone. It was up to

Diane thought she heard someone rush past her in the darkness, but that sound was dispelled by a terrific

crash that came from the balcony window. In her turn, Diane started for the dressing table, only to hear Miss

Brandom come shrieking in her direction. The shrieks ended with a tumbling thud.

For the moment, Diane couldn't understand what had tripped the actress. Then Diane realized that she'd

forgotten to drop the telephone before rushing to aid Miss Brandon. As a result, Diane had stretched the cord

Strong arms were gripping Diane, whipping her over by the window. In the slight light from outdoors,

Diane's face showed pale and startled. Then, Cardiff's face came into the light; Diane could see his hands,

"Take these" Cardiff was pouring the Brandom gems into Diane's open handbag. "Take these and get out!

Cardiff gave Diane a shove that landed her half across a chair in the other room. Still gripping the hand bag,

Diane wondered where she was until the door came crashing through, smashed with the same zeal that

In with the light from the hallway came Harry Vincent, with Margo Lane right behind him. Diane's eyes

followed those figures into the darkness, where a sudden commotion took place. Who Harry was, Diane

At least the door was Diane's proper exit. Retaining her senses, including her balance, she started for it. The

light from the hallway made Diane happy when she reached it, but only briefly. As she still heard the sounds

of the slugfest back in the darkness, Diane was stopped by a hand that clamped hard upon her shoulder.

That hand came from within the apartment and as Diane turned to see what belonged to it, she was

confronted by eyes glaring through a slitted mask, with a glittering gun muzzle accompanying them.

Right then, Diane was more terrified than most people ever could be. Fearful enough in its own right, this

encounter stirred Diane's recollections and made her think that the masked man was Quade, come to life!

Logic didn't help because Diane wasn't thinking in such terms. The fact that other masked men had

supplanted the unlamented Quade was something very far from Diane's mind. All Diane wanted was to

wrench free from this creature that could well be a solidified ghost and wrench away she did, by yielding the

prize she carried, the jewelstuffed bag that glinted its valuable contents from its open depths.

Hard and merciless was the laugh that came from behind the mask. As Diane staggered across the corridor,

she heard a pouncing sound behind her; at the stairs, the masked man overtook her and twisted the girl about

with another of those deft, quick grips. Two steps down, Diane was looking into a gun muzzle looming from

She'd hoped this monster would have let her get away once she had given up the jewels, but he hadn't. The

hard laugh from the mask, as cold as the gun muzzle that accompanied it, meant death!

Then came a harsher, louder sound, even more metallic. The gripping hand hooked Diane up from the stairs

and flung her full around. The man who intended murder had delayed it for the moment, until he checked on

That loud clangor was the opening of the elevator door, down at the end of the corridor.

Again a harsh laugh came and with good reason. It would be easy enough for this masked robber to serve

Diane a few bullets and send the rest at any rescuers who might be coming from the elevator.

Small wonder, considering that it was drowned by a titanic taunt that only one living being could author.

Living blackness was surging from that elevator, in the cloaked form of The Shadow!

Wildly, the masked man took pot shots at The Shadow first. Thrice the gun muzzle spat flame past Diane's

shoulder and The Shadow didn't stop. Dragging Diane with him as a living shield, the masked man made a

headlong rush down the stairs, to escape that living vengeance cloaked in black.

All Diane remembered after that was a tripping plunge that carried her across the corridor of the floor below.

Completely dazed, she knew that she had been released, until she felt the grip of strong hands hauling her up

The man who had performed this service was Winston Thorne. How he had arrived here, Diane didn't know,

Then, as Diane subsided, Thorne let her ease back against the wall, while he stood there, hands in coat

pockets, waiting while she made up her mind whether she wanted to continue the fight or not.

Looking straight up the steps, she saw blackness at the landing, half way up to the next floor. It seemed to

hover there, like some protecting presence. Then, any menace that Thorne might have offered was ended, for

from the stairs below came the leftovers of the dinner party, a group of excited guests headed by Oscar

When Diane again looked for the shrouding blackness that represented The Shadow, it was gone.

The persons who encountered that blackness were Harry Vincent and Margo Lane. They were at the door of

the Brandom apartment, Harry a bit groggy from a blind slugfest with somebody in the darkness; Margo

From within the apartment came moans, uttered by Mary Brandom, but they were all in terms of missing

jewels, not of physical hurt. Recognizing that the actress was safe for the present, The Shadow promptly

This was a broth with too many cooks. There was no reason to involve others in it. What The Shadow wanted

Returning after the elevator went down, The Shadow used a tiny flashlight to probe the Brandom apartment.

He found a switch box in the closet of the ante room, and saw a pulled switch that somebody had yanked to

The Shadow left the switch as it was. Continuing his course, he went through the inner room, where Mary

Brandom was back at the dressing table, moaning as she pawed helplessly in the darkness for the gems that

Flashlight extinguished, The Shadow glided through the ruined window to the outside balcony. Going along

the balcony, he found that he could swing easily over the end and down to the balcony below, one being

within reach of the other. Here on the lower balcony The Shadow found a window leading into the corridor, a

Who that somebody was, The Shadow not only guessed, but promptly proved his conjecture.

Coming around a corner of the corridor. The Shadow clung to blackness as he studied a group that had

assembled by the stairway. There, Thorne was supporting Diane and explaining how he'd found her tumbling

down the stairs. The listeners were Alcott and the others who had come up one floor from the private dining

That man was Rex Cardiff. Hands in pockets, in copy of Thorne's style, Cardiff was joining the group

without anyone noticing it, so concerned were they about Diane. Cardiff was easing into the picture from The

Shadow's own direction, which proved that Cardiff was the man who had doubled down and around by the

By the time people were wondering what to do next, Cardiff had circled around so that he was standing at the

head of the stairs from the lower floor. Just as if he had been the last to arrive from the dining room, Cardiff

"Suppose we go and see if everything is all right with Miss Brandom. She lives somewhere above here,

It was Winslow Thorne who gave Rex Cardiff a slow, steady stare in answer, but Thorne didn't interpret it,

Then the group was on its way upstairs, Diane Marlow with them. Again, blackness was in the offing

THE lights were on again in the Brandom suite, for someone had found the switch. The management had

been notified of the robbery and the police were on their way. All this within five minutes time, while Miss

Brandom still moaned about missing jewels and ferocious thugs who had seized her in the darkness and

It was just nine o'clock and Alcott decided to call Hapwood's and talk to Tarvel, who must have arrived there

by this time. Getting Hapwood on the wire, Alcott explained what had happened and Hapwood immediately

said he could talk to Tarvel, who had been there all of ten minutes. Alcott's chat with Tarvel was brief; ending

Thorne took the telephone and began an affable conversation, as one chain store magnate to another. Only

Hapwood wasn't so affable. His voice fairly crackled from the receiver, so sharply that others besides Thorne

"I might have known you'd be there, Thorne!" came Hapwood's accusations, "You'd go to any lengths to get

Clamping down the telephone, Thorne not only cut off Hapwood, but handled the situation splendidly.

"Your good friend Tarvel must have told Hapwood that I was at the dinner. Hapwood thinks I'm trying to buy

up those stores he sold to you. He says it's practically stealing his business away from him. You'd better set

him straight tomorrow, Alcott. Assure him that I don't intend to expand my chain."

His eyes idling away from Alcott, Thorne met Cardiff's gaze and Diane was sure that she saw a flash of

understanding pass between them. Then, Thorne's glance was taking in the others and he became imperious.

"Come now, everyone!" ordered Thorne. "The Brandom jewels are missing and we must give the police a

As an example, Thorne turned his pockets inside out and spread his tuxedo jacket wide. Cardiff promptly

copied the example and others hastily began to show that they weren't burdened with the missing valuables. It

"This is quite unnecessary," objected Alcott. "There were so many gems beside the Brandom brooch that they

would be too bulky for anyone to conceal upon their person. In fact" Alcott smirked at some ladies who

looked nervous in their lownecked evening gowns "I am sure the police will prefer to search the premises,

"And besides" Alcott added this with assurance "we were all downstairs in the private dining room when

the robbery happened. If the ladies would care to return there; I shall willingly be responsible, since I can see

The ladies didn't see it that way. Reassured by Alcott's preliminary statement, they wanted to stay around and

witness the famous Miss Brandom acting her scene with the police. Remembering how the gems had bulged

her hand bag, which was a fairly large one, Diane silently agreed that a search would be trivial, where the

What really bothered Diane was the coming police quiz and she could foresee that it might bother someone

else, much more than herself. As Cardiff looked Diane's way and gestured that she should go downstairs, the

A moment later, Cardiff had stepped over beside Diane. No taller than Cardiff's shoulder, Diane looked up at

his tired smile and waited until his firm hand had eased her well toward the door. Then, planting herself

She was going to say "like Quade" but caught herself. Cardiff returned one of his pasteboard smiles.

"So you don't know who he was," Cardiff declared. "Therefore nobody would believe your story."

"You might have given them to the masked man," Cardiff emphasized. "You haven't any witnesses to prove

"Why not?" Cardiff was very bland. "Some of those previous robberies were handled in passalong style. Of

"I don't think Thorne did see him," Diane said slowly. "Maybe he couldn't have, because Thorne might "

Again Diane halted. It wouldn't do to suggest the wild notion that gripped her at this moment, that Thorne

himself might have been the masked man, since Diane had come out of her daze to find herself alone with

Thorne. Considering how convincingly Thorne had handled himself, Diane felt herself quite at a loss.

"The best we can do is say nothing," decided Cardiff. "I didn't see the Brandom gems and neither did you!

How could we have, considering that everything went dark? That is, if we want to admit that we were up

Diane's defiance was ignored by Cardiff as he turned to stroll back to the group. A moment later, the girl was

following Cardiff's advice and very suddenly. From the door of the ante room, where she was standing,

gloved hands came from blackness and literally plucked her out of sight, while a low, commanding tone

He was hurrying Diane through the corridor, to the same elevator that he had used to send Harry and Margo

on their way. During that quick trip, The Shadow was giving Diane explicit instructions to get back to her

Out of her confusion, Diane nodded. Previously she'd thought of Lamont Cranston and The Shadow as one;

now she classed them as different people. Because Diane had been practically speaking to Cranston at the

It didn't occur to Diane that Mann might have been building an alibi for Cranston, whose peregrinations as

The Shadow were something that had to be covered on occasion. At any rate it was The Shadow that Diane

was meeting now, though briefly, for Diane was promptly on her way, as ordained.

And it was Lamont Cranston who made a casual appearance in the Brandom suite a short while later, just

after Commissioner Weston and Inspector Cardona arrived to take over proceedings.

The police quiz, the search of the premises, became the routine matters that Oscar Alcott had anticipated,

though everything was done thoroughly. In fact, Inspector Cardona ordered everyone downstairs anyway, so

he would have more room in which to operate. Cranston remained, of course, as a friend of the

commissioner, and Cardona's efficiency won his approval, even though it promised subsequent

For one thing, Cardona made sense of Miss Brandom's story, narrowing it down to the fact that the actress

had actually encountered but one person in the darkness and admitted that she might have tripped over the

telephone cord. Unfortunately, though, that stirred a recollection which Miss Brandom had temporarily lost

"There was a girl here!" The actress suddenly exclaimed. "I don't know who she was, but she wanted an

Miss Brandom gestured to the dressing table where the fountain pen was the only thing of value that

remained. Beside the pen was the folded card, turned wrongside out, on which the autograph was to have

As Miss Brandom spoke, Cardona picked up the card and folded it the right way. The actress gave a surprised

"Familiar lines," observed Cranston, studying the card over Cardona's shoulder. Then, to Weston: "I just

came from the public library. I've been looking into that sort of literature, in the children's department."

Weston gave an annoyed bristle at what he thought was Cranston's jest. The commissioner changed tone, the

"Mother Goose!" Weston exclaimed. "First Old King Cole and now Mary Quite Contrary, with a robbery to

Lamont Cranston quite agreed; but how far this was nonsense and what could be done toward stopping it, he

DIANE MARLOW should have worn violets, instead she had worn roses, now she was talking about tulips.

This was the day after the Brandom robbery and Diane was really a fugitive from justice. In quizzing the

guests at the TarvelAlcott party, the police had found an odd place card on the table and it tallied with

Only Lamont Cranston didn't want to talk about Diane's place card as he lunched with the girl. He was more

"The different versions of Mother Goose show a great many discrepancies," asserted Cranston in an

authoritative tone. "Only a few specify tulips in the Contrary Mary rhyme, just as there are some that refer to

"Tulips were to the point," put in Diane, "because those Brandom rubies were the same red color. But how

"It might help us," declared Cranston, "because if I can find the particular edition of Mother Goose that these

"Yes, copies. It may be that the man who engineers these crimes is sending the same message to several

people. Therefore he would have bought several copies of the edition he uses. Besides" there was

something reflective in Cranston's gaze "a copy of the proper book might give us some inkling to the

Cranston said that so calmly that Diane couldn't help but shudder. To think that men of Quade's ilk were still

at large and ready for another move was something that really disconcerted Diane.

"You are safe for the present," declared Cranston, correctly interpreting Diane's shiver, "even if the police are

linking you up as Quade's accomplice in that other robbery. However, let's stay with the Brandom case.

From a list he had compiled, Cranston read what he considered the salient factors in the case. A number of

"First the lights went off," tallied Cranston, "then Brandom screamed and someone went past you in the

"Right then the window crashed, Cardiff came through, and next thing he was handing you the gems."

"On the way out you met a masked man who snatched the hand bag in which you had the gems, slung you

"I didn't exactly wake up," said Diane. "I was only dizzy. But I wasn't keeping good track of things right then,

so all I remember is coming out of a blur to find Thorne there. So check again."

"Cardiff couldn't have turned out the lights and gotten back to the balcony in time to crash through the

window," declared Cranston. "Nor could he have overtaken you and grabbed the gems back. Cardiff was in a

"Harry Vincent," specified Cranston. "The man you were supposed to team with instead of Rex Cardiff."

"No, Cardiff wasn't," interposed Cranston. "Now let's consider Thorne. He might have come upstairs, turned

off those lights, chased after you and grabbed you, taken the hand bag, flung you downstairs, and helped you

"Because it would all have been a pretty large order," put in Diane, with a nod. "Only what right had Thorne

"She invited him," replied Cranston, calmly. "That came out today. Remember the phone call Brandom

"Right," returned Cranston. "He phoned from the room where the party was. Mind you, it might have been a

"Exactly. There wasn't any opportunity for Thorne to get rid of them. Cardiff, yes if he'd kept them, or even

"There must have been another person," she decided. "Somebody working with Cardiff or Thorne or both."

"Not necessarily," rejoined Cranston. "The reason I am checking details so carefully is because when dealing

with persons like Cardiff and Thorne either individually or together we must realize that some essential

incident may have been covered. We know however that there was a masked man. He had opportunities, brief

"Or just the first person," corrected Cranston. "We haven't yet proven a connection between such an

"Let's return to the dinner party," suggested Cranston. "When the crowd came dashing up to find you and

"That fits with what several people testified," declared Cranston, making a check mark with his pencil. "We

"He was. Hapwood put him on the phone to talk with Alcott. Then Hapwood talked to Thorne "

"I know." Cranston finished a rapid calculation with his pencil. "We're considering Tarvel right now. He left

the Metrolite ten minutes before the robbery and reached Hapwood's ten minutes after it. Twenty minutes

from the Metrolite to Hapwood's. Tarvel couldn't have made it in anything else. That takes care of Tarvel."

"Tarvel was already taken care of," said Diane, wearily, "just like Alcott. They come in the class of victims,

not robbers. So does about everyone else who was at the dinner party. You ought to start looking for rank

"I've been letting the police do that," stated Cranston with one of his slight smiles. "You'd be surprised how

"None. Some of them didn't have enough intelligence to appreciate even such verse. The police made the

rounds of Quade's acquaintances and it seems Quade didn't associate with the intelligentsia."

"Well I wish you luck with Mother Goose," said Diane, rising. "But I'll need more than wishes if I'm to be

"Don't worry," returned Cranston. "The police don't have your picture and we'll see that you're cleared before

they find one. So you may as well go shopping this afternoon. I'll phone your hotel before dinner."

It seemed strange, indeed thrilling, to be traveling around Manhattan as a wanted woman. Only Diane hoped

the thrill wouldn't last too long, because it was the sort of thing that might explode soon. In one department

store, Diane passed the book section and shied away in horror at sight of some people poring over copies of

One thing: Diane was strictly allergic to Mother Goose. It just wouldn't be smart to think of those old nursery

rhymes, for fear she'd start muttering them out loud and have the arm of the law clamp down. Diane was still

holding that idea, and seriously, when she reached her hotel, the Everest, and went up to her room.

It was dusk outdoors, so Diane turned on the lights. Her eye, by merest chance, was attracted to a very trifling

object, an envelope lying in an otherwise empty waste basket, which was close by the door. It disturbed

Today, Diane had made sure that she had left nothing in that waste basket. Considering her present status, she

didn't want to leave a single clue to her right identity. Diane had found that she was expected by another

name when she registered here at the Everest, and to cooperate with The Shadow, she was keeping up that

Plucking the envelope from the waste basket, Diane was both puzzled and horrified to find her own name

typed on it. The address was Hotel Everest, with this room number, and there was something vaguely familiar

Keyed to the quick, Diane looked frantically about the room for other clues and saw one that she might

normally have overlooked a slip of paper poked out from beneath a small stack of magazines which looked

slightly out of place. Whipping the slip clear, Diane saw that it was a portion of a page clipped from a book.

If Diane Marlow had pronounced the fearful name of some dread demon who threatened doom to anyone

who uttered it, she couldn't have put more terror into the title that she did declare aloud:

Crime was on the march again; this time it had announced Diane as an accomplice in advance.

IT was too late now to reach Rutledge Mann at his office with a phone call but there was another number that

Diane had been given in case of emergency. In this emergency she couldn't remember the number to save her.

While Diane tried to recall it, the phone bell rang. Knowing that Cranston was to call her, Diane hurriedly

folded the Black Sheep message, tucked it in a new purse that she'd bought that afternoon, and grabbed for

"Sure. Don't worry." Cardiff spoke with a consoling note. "I can fix everything. I'll be right over."

When Cardiff ended the call, Diane didn't wait one minute. Instead, she opened the door while putting on her

hat, flicked off the lights, and hurried to the elevator, carrying her precious new purse with her. When she

reached the lobby, Diane ignored the front door. Outside, a cab would be waiting, piloted by a chap called

Shrevvy, the same cabby who had brought Diane here from Quade's that first night.

But with all her trust for anyone who shared The Shadow's confidence, Diane couldn't take a chance on going

out the front way for fear Cardiff would arrive too soon. Avoiding the bright lobby, Diane sped out through a

dark side passage past the telephone booths, to another street, where she was fortunate to find a cab parked.

Good fortune ended as Diane landed in the cab. Another voice told the driver where to go. A powerful hand

kept Diane from climbing out the door, while another hand suppressed her outcry.

"To the police?" Cardiff laughed again, more pleasantly. "Nothing could be farther from my mind. I knew

you would think that was my intention, so I had to use subterfuge to meet you. I guessed you would scurry

"You did." Cardiff wore one of those smiles of his and held it. "Or didn't you?"

"There was a message for me at the Metrolite," stated Cardiff. "That's where I'm stopping now, like the other

important people. You'll find out why when we arrive there. But that message you didn't send it?"

"I wasn't sure," Cardiff admitted. He was eying Diane's new hand bag as he spoke. "That's why I took

Maybe it was the direction of Cardiff's eyes; perhaps Diane just had a flash of intuition. She turned, met

"Whoever took my hand bag found out where I was! I had a receipt in it from the Hotel Everest, with my

Cardiff kept that smile of his, as if still wondering whether or not to believe Diane. He was doubting or so it

seemed even when they reached the Metrolite, but as they walked through the lobby, Cardiff became

indulgent. Powerful as he was, towering over Diane as he did, Cardiff wasn't the person to worry much.

If Diane had been urged by a gun muzzle, she couldn't have felt more helpless than she did now. Her elbow

was in the grip of Cardiff's hand and though light enough, that grip, Diane realized it would tighten on

provocation. There was an index to that prospect in the way Cardiff used his hand to steady himself at

That fact and the thickness of his voice told Diane that Cardiff had been drinking, but how much, Diane

couldn't estimate. Cardiff might be faking a halfjag for some reason; contrarily, he could be carrying himself

Whichever the case, Cardiff's smile kept telling Diane that she'd better put up with his game, for a while at

least. As they reached the news stand, Cardiff stopped to buy an early edition of a tabloid newspaper, dated

"There's a story in this that will interest you," Cardiff told Diane. "Let's go up to my office so you can read

Knowing that the Hotel Metrolite did not specialize in offices, Diane was loath to comply, but Cardiff put

"You wouldn't want me to have a bellhop page you, would you?" queried Cardiff. "Some of the guests here

not only remember you by name, but would recognize you. What's more, they wouldn't mind telling the law."

Diane's eyes flashed angrily. They had a violet sparkle that would have gone very nicely with the flowers

"I see!" Diane compressed the words from her tightened lips. "You're going to sell me out to Miss Brandom.

"Ridiculous!" interrupted Cardiff. "Don't worry about Brandom. She's sulking in her suite."

"If you do," resumed Diane, "I'll tell about you giving me the gems. You wouldn't want that!"

"Of course I wouldn't," Cardiff agreed genially. "That's why I don't want you recognized. Tarvel lives here

and so does Alcott. Either one would give you away, just because you spoiled their party."

"Tarvel and Alcott are out," added Cardiff, "because there is Thorne waiting for them. They are over at

Diane gained a look at Thorne across the lobby and saw him at what could be termed either his best or worst.

Hands in coat pockets. Thorne was glowering around the hotel as if he owned it, which possibly he did,

There was something haughty in the big bluff face that went with its overbearing owner, Winslow Thorne.

His irongray hair was a proper accompaniment to his steely eyes, which glinted in Diane's direction and

Only Thorne didn't notice Diane. He was looking past her and Diane saw why, immediately after she

"You can look now," undertoned Cardiff. "I don't think you know the man that Thorne just noticed or do

Noting first that Thorne himself had turned away, Diane looked the other direction and shook her head as she

saw a stocky, tawnyfaced man who had just entered the hotel and was studying the lobby in a professional

style that Diane didn't like. The man reminded Diane of Quade, which in a way was not surprising,

The difference was that the stocky man dealt with crime instead of dealing in it.

"Inspector Cardona," identified Cardiff, as the elevator door went shut. "Looking for clues to recent

robberies, human clues no doubt, and letting the best of the lot slide out of his sight."

Of course the "best of the lot" meant Diane, but if the term were taken in a plural sense, it could include

Cardiff. That thought gave Diane a certain trust in Cardiff and when they reached his floor, the sixteenth, the

To her surprise, Diane found that Cardiff did have an office, when he unlocked a corner door marked 1612.

With a trace of sincerity in his smile, Cardiff bowed Diane into the place and gave a sweeping gesture that

"Office here, living quarters there," explained Cardiff. "They used to use these as display rooms. I'm only

going to need an office for a few days, so a hotel seemed the best place to have one. An interesting business,

mine" Cardiff was unfolding the newspaper as he spoke "here, you can read about it."

That wasn't all. The paragraphs that followed were even more revealing to Diane. As she read, she wondered,

ANY of Diane's doubts were rapidly dispelled by the way Cardiff verbally interpreted the story as she

perused it. The whole thing meant that Cardiff was a very smart young man or perhaps not.

It dealt with a group of stores known as The Amalgamated Chain, which hadn't been doing too well lately. In

fact, Amalgamated had been due for a reorganization which had suddenly become a fact.

Only now Amalgamated was going to have a new name. It was to be called Cardiff Stores Incorporated and

"Funny, isn't it?" laughed Cardiff. "The black sheep of the family becoming the whitehaired boy."

The term "black sheep" didn't startle Diane. She had been thinking of it from what the newspaper said. While

the account didn't use the phrase, it intimated that Rex had something of a black sheep rating among the

"It took one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to spring it," chuckled Cardiff, "and my dear, dear relatives

pitched in with it. Three of them at fifty thousand bucks apiece. Here's what they get for it!"

From his inside pocket, Cardiff brought three sealed envelopes and spread them in front of Diane's eyes. She

Here stood Rex Cardiff, the black sheep, and in his hand the three bags of wool!

"Uncle Hugh chipped in a share," continued Cardiff. "He thinks he's the head of the family, that's why. I told

that to my greataunt Mathilda and she bought a part just to show Uncle Hugh. My cousin Bill came in for

the third. They call him Bill now, the big stuffed shirt, but I remember when he was Willie. I used to call him

Weeping Willie, because when the other kids shoved him around, he always bawled and ran home down the

Those terms fitted Cardiff's uncle, greataunt, and cousin, each of whom rated as a recipient of a bag of black

"Preferred stock," announced Cardiff, flaunting the envelopes. "Fifty thousand dollars worth for each of my

precious relatives. Enough to control the Amalgamated chain with a voting majority. We'll expand the

company and I'll get my share, unless somebody wants to buy up this interest and pay us a handsome profit."

Cardiff eyed Diane and particularly her new handbag as he spoke. Diane could only shrug and say:

"Maybe Artemus Hapwood would buy," mused Cardiff. "I'm going to see him, anyway. Still, they say he's in

a selling mood, not a buying one. Of course there is Winslow Thorne, but he hasn't shown any inclination to

Diane didn't like Cardiff's eyes. They were fixed in a cold, hard manner that belied that perpetual smile of his.

"There's Roy Tarvel," reminded Diane, "and Oscar Alcott. They both bought into chain stores. Maybe you

The cold stare was becoming a glare as Cardiff stalked forward, his free hand creeping slowly toward his coat

"Anything to change the subject," Cardiff sneered. "You want to get it away from Thorne, don't you?"

"I say yes." Cardiff was close now, his hand almost in his pocket. "And I'm the one to ask why!"

"If you really want to know why," retorted Diane, defiantly, "it's because I don't trust Thorne any more than I

Realizing now that Cardiff probably had a gun in his pocket Diane grabbed for the knob of the door against

which she was backed. At least she delayed the gun threat, for Cardiff's hand couldn't wait to draw. Instead,

he made a quick lash, clamping his brawny fist over Diane's tiny hand, pressing it against the door knob until

"No you don't!" stormed Cardiff. "I'm not giving you a chance to bring in that masked friend of yours again."

Diane's face remaining pained, Cardiff relaxed his grip just enough for her expression to change to

"I gave you my offer," Cardiff added. Again he flipped the envelopes in Diane's face. "Buy these options if

"Gems will do," mocked Cardiff, "unless you've already hocked them. You wouldn't have given them back to

Diane didn't complete what she ought to have called Cardiff. She'd stood enough of his insolence and now

she was annoyed by his added impudence in flapping those envelopes right in her face. Diane had a free hand

Surprised by Diane's sudden flare, Cardiff made a sweeping grab to regain the family fortune. He not only

swung wide, he pulled himself off balance and his other hand relayed its grip. During her own dodge, Diane

twisted the door knob automatically and as the door came inward, the girl pivoted around it, hoping to begin

Shoving in from the doorway, blocking Diane's path with one formidable lunge, was the very menace that

He seemed tremendous to Diane, this newcomer, in the few moments that she saw him, but that could have

been due to her imagination. How tall he was, it was impossible to estimate, for he was coming from a

crouch. Being small, Diane thought the man huge and monstrous and the hand that came slashing at her was

The hand wanted the envelopes and it grabbed them as the man swung around, flinging Diane aside. Then

Cardiff came lunging into the fray with a mad snarl that fairly reeked of trouble, a warning that the masked

Instead of trying to spring out through the door, the invader slapped the light switch, plunging the room into

darkness, except for the glow from the corridor. Then that gleam was gone as the door slammed hard,

Reaching her feet, Diane was caught in the furious struggle and amid that maelstrom, she beat off swinging

hands. Envelopes crinkled, came flapping in her face again and she snatched them as she had before, but this

time in the dark. That brought fierce snarls from both combatants, as if they regarded Diane their common

Then, in the halflight from a courtyard window toward which she whirled, Diane looked back to see

revolvers glittering as hands at last whipped them into action. She thought for the moment that both guns

were aiming her way and a pretty target she made, against the window. As though in answer to a frantic

prayer, the looming guns faded from sight as though something had smothered them; in fact, the battling men

It was only that the window light had blurred, as moonlight would when captured by a passing cloud. But it

was something more than a cloud that blotted this scene so suddenly. As at Brandom's, the window crashed

His laugh proclaimed that The Shadow was the provider of the blackout, which ended when the light

followed his surge. In such dim glow, however, The Shadow was untraceable after he made a sideswipe with

The Shadow didn't wait for guns to talk. He was among them when they started to spurt. From where she

landed, halfsprawled beside the window, Diane saw the upward jabs of flame and heard The Shadow's

taunting laugh tuning among the barks of guns, as though he felt himself at home in such company.

Who was trying to shoot whom. Diane didn't know, but she felt sure The Shadow would be the main target, if

the others could find him. Failing that, they'd seek Diane, because she had the precious envelopes.

All of which meant that a quick exit would be Diane's best resort, particularly as she couldn't help The

Still clinging to the envelopes, Diane was halfthrust through the window when she realized it just wouldn't

do. That realization came with a freezing sense of horror. Unlike the Brandom suite, this one didn't have an

There was space, sheer space down the courtyard more than a dizzy dozen floors below, beneath this window

Like an echo to silencing gunshots came The Shadow's laugh as though its grim jest was a warning for

Recoiling from the window as though she expected the courtyard to come leaping up at her, Diane wheeled

and saw another reason for The Shadow's significant laugh. The door to the corridor was wide open now,

Over in a corner, Diane made out The Shadow lashing back and forth with one stubborn fighter, but the other

man was gone. Diane didn't wait to learn who was the remaining opposition, Cardiff or the masked man.

Out through the door sped Diane Marlow, obeying what she took for The Shadow's command and carrying

AN elevator disgorged Diane Marlow into the lobby of the Hotel Metrolite, along with a parcel of passengers

who were puzzled at the girl's excitement. Within the walls of a great hotel, news of such commotion as a gun

fray takes a while to percolate; hence nobody else in the elevator knew why Diane had bolted into the car

The blonde had been in a rush to get out of Cardiff's suite; now she was as anxious to leave the hotel. For one

thing, Diane didn't want to run into the stocky man whom Cardiff had identified as a police inspector.

Diane was doing just that, though she didn't realize it, until she reached the door. There, impatiently pacing

Above the large lobby of the Metrolite was a mezzanine floor, a spacious balcony stocked with writing desks

and lounges reserved exclusively for guests. From the balcony rail, quite near the lobby clock, towered a man

Staring upward, Diane couldn't believe she saw the face she did. The double notion was in her mind that

Thorne's face should be hidden by a mask and that he ought to be in the middle of a tussle on the sixteenth

floor. Maybe it was because she'd seen Thorne here in the hotel that made her think of him in masked terms;

perhaps Cardiff had convinced her wrongly when he professed an enmity toward Thorne.

Then, while Thorne was still voicing accusations and jabbing his big hand Diane's direction, the girl realized

that it must be Cardiff who was struggling with The Shadow upstairs. In that case, Thorne's head start could

have brought him down to the mezzanine well before Diane herself reached the lobby.

"She's the missing girl in those robberies!" Thorne has broadcasting. "That's Diane Marlow who disappeared

right after the Brandom gems were stolen! Stop her, I say, stop her! Don't let her get away!"

Sincere of Thorne to be thinking of reclaiming the Brandom gems which Diane didn't have or was it? A

crinkle from Diane's own small but tightfisted hand snapped her back to her former theory. Right now,

Diane was carrying something perhaps as valuable as those missing gems, as valuable to Thorne for one

person, and something that Thorne probably knew about and the masked man certainly did, which linked the

Why should Thorne be letting Diane get away with that triple prize? The answer was, he wasn't. People were

coming Diane's direction and seeing that the rush had started, Thorne himself was personally heading for the

About the only friendly face that Diane saw was that of the big clock above the desk, its hands indicating

exactly half past seven. Then, shaking herself from her bewilderment, Diane was gifted with one thought

only, to escape before Thorne arrived. Turning, the girl fled out into the street.

Thorne's bellows hadn't reached the sidewalk where Cardona was. Something had diverted the inspector's

attention, at the time Diane popped into sight before. That something was a taxicab that had just pulled up; its

The cab was standing by, because the driver was waiting for the door man to change a ten dollar bill and

meanwhile, Cardona was sounding Tarvel and Alcott on some minor facts regarding the Brandom case.

"I haven't seen Miss Brandom today," Tarvel was saying. "Alcott and I have been over at Hapwood's most of

"We just came from there," added Alcott. "We had an early dinner and left old Happy with his pipe and

The door man was handing Tarvel his change and he was passing a couple of dollars to the cab driver when

Diane clattered past the group and into the cab. Neither Tarvel nor Alcott saw her face, but like Cardona they

Cardona made a quick dash and boarded the moving cab like a trick rider jumping on a horse's back. He had

the door open and was rolling inside, flashing his badge for both benefit of passenger and driver when Diane

"Right back to where I came from," replied the cabby. "That's where she said to go."

This wasn't Shrevvy's cab; Diane knew that already. But she was sure she caught a glimmer of other

headlights following from the Hotel Metrolite and could only hope that it was Shrevvy's cab, not some other

"All right," spoke Cardona gruffly, as he faced Diane. "Who is he and let's hear your explanation."

"I I don't know who he is," began Diane. "Except after that terrible robbery at the hotel, well, I just didn't

"Because of these." Diane flourished the envelopes. "They're worth a lot of money."

Cardona reached for the envelopes, but Diane drew them away and thrust them in her handbag.

"If you're a police inspector," argued the girl. "you ought to see me safely where I'm going and let me prove

That brought a shrug from Cardona, his usual response to pure logic. For a while they rode in silence, which

"So you know Hapwood," Cardona said to Diane. "What's in these envelopes you're taking him?"

Cardona managed to stay patient. He was in a dilemma like Diane. To arrest the girl and take her back to the

Metrolite would be foolish if it turned out that she wasn't the girl that somebody had shouted after. Cardona

didn't know who the shouter was, any more than who Diane might be. So he granted Diane the privileges of

The cabby was making speed, feeling he was on official business with a police inspector as a passenger.

Cardona's first objection came when the driver passed the entrance to a transverse that led across Central

Park. At that moment, Cardona had been about to ask Diane's name; she was therefore much relieved when

"Why not go through that transverse?" demanded Cardona. "It's the shortest way to where we're going."

"They blocked it off at seven thirty," explained the cabby. "Same the last three nights. Doing some repair on

one of the bridges that crosses over the transverse. Won't be open again until eleven o'clock."

Forgetting all about Diane, Cardona settled back in the seat. Diane glanced at her wrist watch, which was set

the same as the hotel clock. It was quarter of eight; they'd been riding fifteen minutes.

That was, they'd traveled half way along the roundabout route. The cab had to go a considerable mileage to

the next transverse and after it crossed the park, it was forced to double back to reach Hapwood's. As they

pulled up in front of the glum old house, Cardona became efficient. He let Diane pay the fare, since the trip

was her idea, but he told the cabby to remain within call. Moreover, Joe stayed very close to Diane as they

The servant who answered the bell recognized Cardona and after notifying Hapwood, returned to usher the

visitors to the living room. Hapwood met them at the door, smoking his big pipe and his bushy eyebrows

raised so that he could beam properly at Diane, to whom he gave a very jolly smile.

"Young lady to see you, Mr. Hapwood," informed Cardona. "She says she's bringing something valuable, so I

"Well, well!" exclaimed Hapwood, chuckling so his double chin rolled down over itself. "Very well, indeed.

"Some chain store stock," declared Diane, handing him the envelopes. "I want you to give the inspector a

receipt for it. Understand, it's not mine, nor yours, but I'm sure you will be asked to bid on it. So I felt I

Cardona eyed Diane, then followed her gaze toward Hapwood, who had torn open the envelopes and was

bringing out their contents. The look on Hapwood's face showed peculiar annoyance for a man of King Cole

"You must know what it is," began Diane. "Surely you've heard of Amalgamated Preferred."

"Amalgamated Preferred!" snorted Hapwood. "This, in my opinion, is unadulterated audacity!"

He handed the sheets of paper to Cardona and Diane looked at them with amazement. Crinkly paper, yes, but

it lacked the green ink that went with stock certificates. In fact, it lacked all ink at all.

Diane's own gaze was blank, at this startling climax to her mad adventure. But her sense of hearing didn't

fade. A telephone bell was jangling; she heard a servant answer it from another room. Cardona's ears were

"Diane Marlow? You mean the girl who stole the Brandom gems? You say she came here with Inspector

What Cardona heard as he wheeled was the clatter of high heels reaching the front door, which slammed

before Joe could even shout a "Halt!" Madly, Diane wanted to get away, anywhere, in what little time

remained. She saw a cab hauling up in front of the house, thought it was the one that brought her here and

So Diane turned to dart away from the stopping cab, but she turned too late, which was fortunate. Out of that

cab swooped living blackness that gathered Diane in one swift, enveloping fold, and swung her into the cab,

All that Joe Cardona saw was the blink of Shrevvy's taillights past the corner, marking another rescue of

VERY patiently, Lamont Cranston heard Diane Marlow's story to the end. It was quiet here, in this little

outoftheway restaurant where Diane had come from her new hotel, to discuss last night's events. She had

"I'm sure he didn't," expressed Diane. "He only said they were in the envelopes."

"I guess not," conceded Diane. "That might have been why he let me regain them, mightn't it?"

"It might," acquiesced Cranston. "But suppose we confine ourselves to facts. Somebody handed you three

"Either Cardiff or the masked man may have employed that subterfuge," continued Cranston. "Possibly it was

done to frame you, in which case Cardiff and his attacker could have been working in collusion, staging a

"The other assumption is that whichever retained the stock certificates, wanted to divert matters to someone

else, namely you. This could apply either to Cardiff or his unknown antagonist."

The analysis covered everything, so far as Diane could see, but it didn't crack the mystery. Hopefully, Diane

produced the Black Sheep clipping that she had found in her room and passed it to Cranston.

"Why should I get one of these?" Diane asked. "I certainly don't belong to the group responsible for these

Diane caught herself at Cranston's smile. A slight smile, that, and very calm, totally unlike the false face

"You mean someone planted it in my room! So if the police found it later, they'd take it I was part of the

Diane cut short again, realizing that the case was covered. She could understand now that she hadn't been

expected to find that clipping from the Mother Goose book. Indeed, it had been through chance alone that she

"The Shadow must have arrived about the time I left the Everest," mused Diane. "That's how he followed me

first to the Metrolite and then to Hapwood's. Only who was there ahead, to plant that verse? Cardiff?"

"Not necessarily," replied Cranston. "Somebody could have phoned him, as he said. At the same time, he

may have told that story as a bluff. What interests me most, right now, is this Black Sheep rhyme."

"Another Mother Goose variant," explained Cranston. "Sometimes its the little boy who lived in the lane, not

the one who cried there. Sometimes instead of getting one bag of wool, the little boy gets none."

Carefully placing the verse with previous Mother Goose samples that he carried in his wallet, Cranston

"Speaking of Lanes, there's one named Margo. She has a convenient apartment where you can stay until

trouble blows over. Here's the address" Cranston wrote it as he spoke "and don't thank her too much

because she owes you some return for a bunch of violets that she shouldn't have taken."

Shortly after this teteatete with Diane, Lamont Cranston became The Shadow. The transformation

occurred in a pitchblack room, which was suddenly broken by a bluish light, shining down upon a polished

table. Into that vivid glow came two long tapering hands, the hands of The Shadow.

A mystic symbol glowed from one finger of the left hand. It was The Shadow's girasol, a remarkable

fireopal whose strange depths ran an everchanging gamut of the rainbow's hues. There was something

hypnotic in the iridescence of that unusual stone, as if in its lesser way it had absorbed some of The Shadow's

Under the blue light, The Shadow's hands unfolded a largescale map of Manhattan. With a pencil he circled

spots where crimes had occurred. He placed little crossmarks at other places of importance and began

On a sheet of paper, The Shadow compiled the following list, arranged in four columns with accompanying

After giving this list a careful scrutiny, The Shadow checked its discrepancies, or limitations. The first two

cases could be eliminated since the unknown persons who had received the stolen goods from Quade, could

Skipping the Hapwood robbery, The Shadow checked the two that followed it. While he had marked Cardiff

as "involved," he placed a question mark after that man's name in each case. Merely because Cardiff had

handled the stolen goods in each case, didn't prove him a criminal any more than Diane, of whose status The

However, in each instance, The Shadow drew a connecting line between the term "Masked Man" and the

name "Thorne." An excellent link, but the problem was to prove it. There was still that perplexer in the

Brandom case: What had Thorne done with the gems if he'd taken them? As for the Cardiff robbery if

So The Shadow placed a question mark on each of the connecting lines. Then, concentrating on the three

robberies that actually had been heralded by Mother Goose messages, he formed the following brief list.

This was somewhat enlightening. It made Thorne and Cardiff eligible as the two masked men big men

described by Hapwood as the robbers who had bound and gagged him. They could have been partners,

Thorne and Cardiff, in the Brandom case; while the same applied in the Cardiff robbery, provided they'd been

trying mutually to frame Diane. Interesting, though, was the possibility that last night's brawl might have

To make a thorough tally of the Thorne situation with its Cardiff angle, The Shadow made another list

covering the whereabouts of men who had held some dealings direct or indirect with Thorne or Cardiff.

Concise though these statistics were, they shed little light upon Thorne or Cardiff. In the Brandom case,

Tarvel had left the hotel ten minutes before the robbery and Alcott had phoned Hapwood's, to find Tarvel

there, ten minutes after the episode of the stolen gems. Thus Tarvel, taking a cab trip at the crucial time,

couldn't offer any more facts on Thorne or Cardiff than could Alcott, who had been with his guests during the

Similarly, on the night of the Cardiff robbery, if Tarvel and Alcott had only arrived a little sooner they might

have seen Thorne on the mezzanine and given him an alibi. Or if they hadn't seen him, or had by any chance

gone up to Cardiff's room, they might have been able to brand Thorne as something more than an innocent

Methodically, The Shadow was running a pencil over the route from the Metrolite to Hapwood's, the route

Diane had taken during her surprise trip with Inspector Cardona. Perhaps the recollection of that event was

what brought the halfwhispered laugh from The Shadow's lips, just as a tiny light glowed from the wall

Picking up earphones, The Shadow answered the call, which was from his contact man, Burbank. Word had

just come from Rutledge Mann in the children's room at the public library. Mann had received a phone call

from Weston and had told the commissioner that Cranston was very busy among the books and couldn't be

disturbed. The commissioner was going to disturb him anyway, by stopping around in half an hour, in his

All of which meant that The Shadow would have to drop his present research and go back to Mother Goose.

Hanging up the earphones, The Shadow folded the traced map along with his lists and turned off the bluish

A strange laugh faded in the blackness, a singular, significant laugh, that was followed by complete silence in

A message that The Shadow, by some quirk of analysis, had laid his finger on crime's full answer.

FINDING Lamont Cranston in the kiddies' corner of the library was something of a novelty for

Commissioner Weston, particularly as from all appearances, Cranston must have been there for hours. Piled

all around him were editions of Mother Goose, which brought a snort from Weston.

"Still back at the starting post," commented Weston. "Where do you think this will get you, Cranston?"

"Mann and I have found it very enlightening," assured Cranston, gesturing to the patientmannered broker,

who was studying a bibliography of Mother Goose. "By the way, we've tracked down the edition from which

"No, three. Here's another I meant to show you. I found it outside of Cardiff's room after we were there last

The statement was truthful enough, since Cranston actually had come across the Black Sheep clipping

somewhere far outside Cardiff's room and at a time much more recent than last night. Receiving the clipping,

"This does apply to the Cardiff, case!" exclaimed the commissioner. "We'll have to show it to him later."

"Trying to mollify his relatives." Weston sat down in a halfpint chair provided for the regular patrons of this

book section. "You know, Cranston" the commissioner's tone became confidential "I'm a bit dubious

"He says he tried to trick the girl into a confession; instead, she made away with his securities. Yet somehow

she didn't get them. I wonder if the two were just framing something for publicity."

"Besides" Weston shifted uneasily in the undersized chair "Cardiff talked about two attackers. One was a

masked man, the other answered the description of The Shadow. Maybe there wasn't any."

"I see," nodded Cranston. "You think that Cardiff talked about two men to make it look as though they

"That's it. He'd have been a dub to let just one person get away. I must admit, though, that Cardiff was a bit

Cranston could have testified to that in firsthand style. As The Shadow, he'd really had to put a few

finishing wallops on Cardiff in order to get started on a belated pursuit of the masked man, a quest which he

"We're going to talk to Thorne," decided Weston. "He knows quite a bit about this fellow Cardiff. Thorne

says Cardiff was trying to talk himself into the chain store business all along."

People were buzzing for quiet in keeping with the "Silence" sign above the children's books. Weston looked

around, much annoyed and thereby made matters worse, when the chair cracked loudly under his weight.

"Over at Hapwood's," replied Weston. "I want to find out how friendly those two are if at all."

On the way out, Cranston paused to speak with Mann and give approval to what his friend had learned

"The Harlequin Edition," nodded Cranston. "A limited printing. See what more you can learn about it,

Reaching Hapwood's, the visitors found no difficulty in learning how he felt about Thorne and vice versa.

Thorne was waiting there when Cranston and Weston arrived and he looked very stuffy, seated in a big chair

Thorne with his haughty manner, those cold, steelblue eyes that glinted hard, might be the sort to make the

average person quail; but all his dominating force was lost on Hapwood. Big though he was, Thorne was

outbulked by Hapwood, whose portly frame seemed capable of absorbing all the glares that Thorne could

Now, with other persons on hand, Hapwood became himself. He was King Cole again, enthroned in the only

chair that could support his avoirdupois, though it had to be conceded that Thorne's weight was a strain on the

second largest chair in the room. In fact, when Hapwood put himself in motion, Thorne immediately began to

"Cigars and drinks!" Hapwood bellowed to a passing servant. "Whatever my guests want, they shall have. Of

course for me" he settled back in his chair and gestured to his meerschaum and the huge glass beside it

"You arrived just at the right time, gentlemen." This was to Weston and Cranston. "Thorne and I were

discussing some ethical questions and we find we do not quite agree. Perhaps your opinions would help."

"It's not a matter for opinion," Thorne declaimed. "In any business, a man has the right to buy and sell as he

deems best. Hapwood seems to think that I am doing this through others, as though I were afraid to show my

"You said that before," reminded Hapwood, "and I said you were doing that very thing."

"But I am not!" stormed Thorne. "If you mean in the case of young Cardiff" abruptly Thorne caught

himself "suppose I admitted that Cardiff bought those Amalgamated securities for me. Would that please

"All right, have it your way, or both ways. Cardiff may deny it, but he was my front. Now you can see why I

am worried, gentlemen" Thorne turned a troubled gaze toward the two arrivals "because next thing,

Hapwood was pouring himself some brandy. He stopped to deliver one of his rolling laughs.

"Delightful, Thorne." Hapwood sipped the brandy. "Most delightful. I mean you, not the brandy. So you are

"None." Hapwood stared over his glass at Thorne. "Except that I think you should have been there with

Cardiff, to help protect your mutual property. He's about your size, isn't he?" Hapwood eyed Thorne's bulk

Before Thorne could reply to that pointed comment, two new visitors arrived: Tarvel and Alcott. Contrasted

with Thorne and Hapwood, this pair looked really rabbity. Thorne was the first to bulldoze the arrivals,

"Hapwood thinks you are straw men," Thorne told them, not realizing how funny it sounded to address two

lightweights by that title. "Just a couple of buyers that I'm using to get at his holdings. Is that true?"

"Don't be worried, you chaps," broke in Hapwood. "I don't mind if it's the truth. I'm retiring anyway and I

don't care who buys me out. You see" Hapwood became reflective "I conducted my business

scrupulously during the period of wartime shortages. I had nothing to do with black markets and hot money."

Hapwood's eyes took on an accusing stare, but his eyes were distant, rather than narrowed.

"Instead, I improved my properties," continued Hapwood, "and now I can sell out at an honest profit. That's

why I've been wondering about these recent robberies. Bonds disappeared, then jewels, but nobody seems to

know their value. The Brandom gems were appraised surprisingly low, I hear, and now the Cardiff stocks

appear to have been blank paper. Maybe certain people don't want it known, just what their losses were.

"It doesn't apply in my case, because the money that crooks came after wasn't here. But the papers that I lost"

Hapwood nudged a big thumb toward his wall safe "contained a great deal of correspondence on

financial matters. Offers to obtain priorities, to handle government contracts, even to buy jewelry and

securities at peculiar prices. I wonder if those were what the robbers were really after!"

"If you can find them, yes," acknowledged Hapwood. "The next best plan would be to go through my office

"Perhaps Thorne could help you," Hapwood suggested. "He unquestionably heard from the same sources. Of

course I am sure that Thorne conducted his business with the same integrity that I showed with mine."

Thorne acknowledged the compliment with a bow; then arose in leisurely fashion. Turning to Weston,

"I shall look through my papers, commissioner. I have a miscellaneous lot in my penthouse. It will take me an

Weston named his favorite rendezvous, the Cobalt Club, and Thorne bowed out. It wasn't long before Weston

and Cranston followed, leaving Tarvel and Alcott to discuss their business of chain store purchases with

"Not to the club?" exclaimed Weston. "But I wanted you to go over Thorne's papers with me!"

"That's not for an hour yet," reminded Cranston. "I hope to be there by that time."

Somewhat mollified, Weston pulled away in his official car, only to remember that he might as well have

offered to drop Cranston off wherever he wanted to go. Looking back, Weston found he was too late.

Except that when Cranston disappeared, it didn't necessarily mean that he had gone his way.

AT the very time when The Shadow was resuming his cloaked identity, Diane Marlow was wondering just

how soon she would hear from Lamont Cranston. At present Diane was stationed very comfortably in

Margo's apartment, but Diane wasn't exactly in a mood to be comfortable anywhere.

Too many things were at stake and every hour was increasing the tension. Hence Diane was very glad when

she heard a buzz from the door bell. Of course it might only be Margo Lane, who had gone out a while

Instead, the arrival proved to be a delivery boy, bringing a box of flowers for Miss Margo Lane.

It was only right that Diane should put the flowers in a vase. They proved to be magnificent roses and while

admiring them, Diane couldn't resist the temptation of looking at the card in the accompanying envelope.

Already, Diane had guessed that Margo had been piqued over what she considered a rivalry where Diane was

concerned. Now that it all had been straightened, Diane's hunch was that Cranston had sent these roses to

What she found was a printed slip of paper cut from the page of a book, which bore these startling lines:

Oddly, the first name that flashed to Diane's mind was Cranston's, yet there was a reason for it. Only

Cranston knew that Diane was at this apartment. How anybody else could have discovered it, was a mystery

If not Cranston, it could be Rex Cardiff, assuming that he had been responsible for the precious message with

its Black Sheep reference. Eliminating Cardiff, the next name that struck Diane was that of Winslow Thorne.

Diane remembered Thorne only too well. Kindly enough at the time of the Brandom robbery, he'd turned

quite the opposite after the Cardiff affair. Diane could picture Thorne's broad face, blatant with its shout to

Looking in the telephone book, Diane found Thorne's number and phoned it, intending to thank him sweetly

for the flowers, to see what reaction she would get. However, the number didn't answer. Thorne was out.

New determination gripped Diane. She wasn't far away from where Thorne lived. So Diane put the slip of

paper on Margo's table, wrote a brief note saving where she'd gone, and sallied out into the dark.

It was disconcerting, this trip. All the way to Thorne's, Diane had the disturbing sensation that some one was

following her. When she reached the address, Diane cut across the street, slid into a doorway and looked to

right and left, expecting to see furtive figures trailing her. None were in sight; maybe they'd guessed her

So Diane bided her time and whiled it by looking at the apartment house where Thorne lived. It was a

handsome building, but not a very tall one: ten floors, with a penthouse in addition. Diane could see the

penthouse looking darkly like a turret mounted on a deck, as represented by the roof of the apartment house.

Crossing the street, Diane took quick looks again and spotting no one, decided her imagination had been at

fault. She entered the apartment house, found that it had an automatic elevator and pressed the button to bring

the car down. As it arrived, the door opened and a man stepped out so suddenly that Diane didn't immediately

recognize him. By the time she did, she was recognizing something else, a gun pressed against her, muzzle

Pushing a button that bore the letters P.H., Cardiff started the trip to the top. In an ugly tone, he stated his

"I thought you'd be here," said Cardiff. "That's why I played a hunch and came down with the elevator. If it

"A nice game you and Thorne have played," continued Cardiff, bluntly. "Making me accessory to the robbery

of the Brandom gems and pulling the envelope switch on the stocks my family bought."

"Thorne is a fox," declared Cardiff. "He hooked me at the start. That talk about setting me up in business was

"You ought to know," retorted Diane, becoming so angry that she forgot the gun. "It took two of you to

handle Artemus Hapwood. When the police remind you of that, you won't be able to bluff off your part in the

The gun muzzle pressed hard against Diane and she gasped with fright as she saw Cardiff's finger actually

quiver on the trigger. Then, as the elevator stopped at the penthouse level, the man's words came grimly:

"Not yet. I'm going to need you. If Thorne thinks he knows how to arrange a frame, he's due for a lesson."

Diane was chilled. She moved forward mechanically from the elevator as Cardiff used the gun muzzle as a

persuader. Silent, dark, the penthouse nevertheless seemed to shriek a word, as though plucking it from

How long she could stall, Diane had no idea. That depended upon Cardiff. The best that Diane could do was

play for some favorable opportunity. At least there seemed a chance for such as Cardiff marched Diane

forward into a room he seemed to know. There, when he pulled the cord of a big floor lamp, Cardiff

"Thorne probably won't keep the loot around here, not where anybody would find it. That won't matter too

much, though. I wouldn't want the hot stuff anyway, because it will prove his guilt and I'll get back my share.

"What we're going to do is look for it. At least you are, so you'll leave plenty of finger prints. We want to

show good enough reason for Thorne to cut loose with a gun and a few obvious clues will help like these."

Roughly, Cardiff plucked away Diane's hat and tossed it on a chair. The girl was wearing a light cape that

she'd borrowed from Margo's stock, so Cardiff whipped it from her shoulders and flung it beside the hat.

"Shoes next. Kick them over in that corner, behind the big chair. Thorne will never find them, but the police

Diane couldn't help but obey orders and now she realized that stalling tactics wouldn't help. In fact, stalling

was part of Cardiff's own game. Shuffling her shoes into the corner, Diane continued with the farce that

Cardiff demanded, prying into tables, bookcases and elsewhere, leaving everything in disarray.

It was becoming horribly obvious. Cardiff intended to murder her immediately after Thorne's arrival. In fact,

"I'll show Thorne what it is to make a fast getaway. No stupid business of giving him a chance to find a body

and get rid of it. People will hear the shots" behind Diane's back, Cardiff reached for a casement window

and flung it open with his free hand "but I'll be gone by the time they get here. Right down the fire tower,

Diane's hands, planted on a table, seemed to glue themselves there. Her head was tilting forward and she

wondered if a fainting spell could possibly help. She was close to such, when the breeze from the window

Then Diane was staring in the same direction as Cardiff, not toward the main door of the room, but toward

another that must have been reachable by a side route from the elevator. In that doorway stood a man, whose

The man was Winslow Thorne. He had a gun too and like Cardiff's, it was leveled straight at Diane Marlow!

Between two gun points, Diane felt herself the center of the situation and didn't like it; not at all.

In fact, Cardiff wasn't too pleased, as his snarl betrayed. The person who relished the proposition was Thorne.

"A small question of murder," was Thorne's terse comment. "The question is not who commits it, but who is

"I'm not so sure," retorted Thorne. "I observed this setup the moment I walked in. You were too busy to

realize that I'd arrived home, Cardiff. Of course, I took an unfair advantage. I saw the lights from down on the

"One killing" Thorne gestured his odd hand toward Diane "but two guns. It's something that our friend

In reply, Cardiff prodded Diane harder with his gun muzzle. Thorne shook his head.

"Very foolish," declared Thorne. "Kill the girl and I kill you. The guns will bear out my story. You slipped,

Cardiff, giving me a chance to slide around from the elevator and pick up this revolver."

"All right, Thorne. Let's make a deal. The girl dies anyway, because she knows too much. That's settled, isn't

Thorne's nod was like Diane's death warrant. Slowly, he lowered his gun, yet not far enough for Diane to dare

a break for freedom. At least she was pleased when Cardiff's gun relaxed. He too was playing wary as he

As Diane watched, she noted the slightest of motions from Thorne's revolver. It was working toward Cardiff

and all the while Diane could feel the sharp spank of the breeze from the broad window which was behind

The pail of water was whatever they intended to find here at Thorne's; that was, whatever Cardiff and Diane

So that was Thorne's game! Of course he'd dispose of Cardiff first, for this Jack with his jack of hearts

smile was armed and dangerous. Cardiff's death accomplished, it would be Diane's turn to play Jill and the

To Diane's distraught mind there was but one prospect, that of a mad attempt at escape, no matter how

implausible the chance might be. To jump a gun might be crazy, to try to escape two of them, crazier still.

But Diane could only think of that broad door, that other door, which led out to the elevator. Beyond it, she

If Diane could reach either, she'd be lucky; nevertheless, it was worth the try. In fact anything was better than

remaining frozen, with death the only reward. Of a sudden, Diane came to life and sprang toward that wide

Out of nowhere, came blackness to meet her. Diane couldn't say whether it came from the elevator or the fire

tower, for both of their doors seemed to waver and fling in that wild moment. She realized that living

blackness was swarming her way until it was eclipsed by total darkness, which happened when Thorne, right

Thorne's tongued toward Cardiff, of course, in keeping with the nursery rhyme. Cardiff's fire spat wildly in

Diane's direction. Then, the blackness that was within blackness met Diane and whirled her, still unscathed,

In his drive, the cloaked rescuer had reached Diane and was flinging her to safety, following with a spin of

his own. Those were the sort of whirls that changed The Shadow into a living gun turret, but that wouldn't

happen, not in close quarters like this, until other gunners had their play. So far The Shadow hadn't

A few seconds were all The Shadow required; meanwhile, guns flared in the darkness and took their toll. As

One gun jabbed twice, toward the window. It came from the broad doorway toward which Diane had fled,

only to encounter The Shadow. Sharp shots those and perfectly placed, an indication to Diane that Thorne

had made a swift and effective change of position. The answer was a howl and with it, against the window,

Diane saw Cardiff's form reel backward, outward, to be swallowed by the darkness beyond.

That was the end of Jack. Cardiff's ten story plunge didn't bring back a trailing wail, because if such was

One gun, of course, was probing for Jill, which meant Diane. But that wasn't all; shots seemed to come from

everywhere, for now The Shadow was shooting, intent upon clipping a murderer who had wrested the

The Shadow's shots were toward the big broad door. Oddly, they were answered from the other door, which

to Diane was more proof of Thorne's quickshifting tactics. But The Shadow was whizzing elsewhere, faster

than Thorne ever could have. So fast and frequent did the gun stabs ride that Diane couldn't believe the field

Main door side door corner window from here, there, everywhere came gunfire until above all rode

the strident mirth of The Shadow's mighty laugh, like a prediction of certain triumph. Guns were popping

now in the middle of the room, so close that they would have been deadly, except that their spurts were

Weapons clashed, with hard, furious swings. Diane could hear the impact of powerful, smashing fighters in

the dark. As at Cardiff's, it turned into a lashing fray that simmered to two fighters locked beside the window.

The webbed blackness of a cloaked arm rose; the sweep of a gloved fist laid a glancing blow to a head

beneath. Moments later, a solitary shape was finding Diane in the darkness, steering her out toward either the

For Diane knew that back beside the window lay Thorne, stunned by the conqueror who was completing

The elevator was The Shadow's choice, but it wasn't at this level. Somebody was using it, for Diane could

hear its thrum. Calmly, The Shadow spoke to Diane, questioning her as to how she was. Gripped by odd

The Shadow returned and found them for her with a tiny flashlight, his expert search accompanied by the

obligato of Thorne's increasing moans, over by the window. By the time The Shadow rejoined Diane, the

For the first time, Diane really saw The Shadow, but still his identity was concealed. The upturn of his cloak

collar, the downtilt of his hat brim, hid his features perfectly. When they reached the ground floor, The

Shadow hurried Diane out and around the corner, her speed unhampered, for she'd put on her shoes in the

Then, Diane was in Shrevvy's cab, riding off to somewhere, while from the distance, far back, came the trail

To prove it, His Excellency, or whatever a police commissioner should be called, kept pacing Hapwood's

living room until the ancient floorboards creaked, while a silent audience sat by.

This was the day after things at Thorne's and Weston hadn't arrived anywhere since. He had chunks of

Angrily, Weston flipped a piece of paper on the table. It was the verse that referred to Jack and Jill.

"It was the windup," stormed Weston. "Thorne getting rid of his accomplices. He brought them there with a

message like this Cardiff and the Marlow girl and they were too dumb to know that they were Jack and

Jill. Or maybe they just picked that jingle themselves and he turned the trick on them!"

Having once been Old King Cole, Hapwood took it upon himself to study the clip that referred to Jack and

"She slugged Thorne and got away," explained Weston. "Inspector Cardona met Thorne staggering out and

let him go, thinking he'd find the girl up in the penthouse. Only she was gone" Weston turned to glower at

Cardona, who was sitting by "and so was Thorne when the inspector came down to look for him."

"I called the Cobalt Club first, commissioner," reminded Cardona. "You'd told me that Thorne was to meet

you there. I didn't want to bring him there under arrest. It's against the club rules."

That should have brought a smile from Cranston who was also present, but his mind was otherwise occupied

"About that Mother Goose book, commissioner," Cranston began. "I have been doing considerable research

"Of course you have," interposed Weston. "The only place I can ever reach you by phone is at the public

library and even then, you're always busy in the children's corner. Just like a little mouse."

"Why not? Now listen, Cranston, put away that report on Mother Goose. I don't want to know about the

missing editions or whatever they are. We'll wait until the big day when the schoolchildren appoint a Boy

"I tried to reach you here, commissioner," said Joe, "but the line was always busy."

"Tarvel and Alcott were making long distance calls," explained Hapwood, apologetically. "They still want to

"That you did," affirmed Tarvel, from a corner chair. "We didn't know that Inspector Cardona was trying to

"The fault was really mine," put in Alcott to Weston. "When the inspector finally put a call through. I was

expecting long distance. I just told him to phone the Cobalt Club. Perhaps I should have awakened Mr.

"All I can say is, find Thorne!" stormed Weston. "The girl is important, but Thorne takes precedent. He killed

Cardiff and that's more serious than robbery. I want you to find a murderer!" Though Weston snapped the

"I'll find the murderer," stated Cranston. "All I need is the proper cooperation on the subject of Mother

Goose. Only I'll be other places than the public library from now on, so I'll call you when I need your

"For a roundup," returned Cranston. "You're after a murderer and at least one accomplice, aren't you? I may

"You'll have them," promised Weston, "and a lot of mounted police if you want. I'll even arrange for the Fire

Department if you wish. Just call for men and you'll have them, if you'll only talk about a murderer instead of

They left Hapwood's and rode away in the commissioner's car. This time Cranston was along and though the

afternoon was late, there was still enough time for him to add some data to his previous lists.

It was grimly simple this time. The Shadow's two lists could be completed in combination with this brief

Cranston was writing that with ink of vivid blue. Weston noted the action and impolitely stole a glance over

his friend's shoulder. By then, the writing had vanished; Cranston was using the sort that The Shadow

What Weston thought was that Cranston had turned the paper over to fold the writing inside, for Cranston

was creasing the paper downward. So Weston saw nothing, nor did he hear anything.

The laugh that Cranston gave was completely repressed by his tightened lips. If a laugh at all, it was of an

DARKNESS had just replaced dusk when Inspector Joe Cardona arrived at a little store called the Book

Worm in response to a telephone call. It was rather a surprise call, for it came from Lamont Cranston, who

At least Cardona wasn't surprised to find that the Book Worm was a book store. Its title rather defined it as

The shop specialized in old books and remainders, the latter terms signifying surplus copies of books that

publishers no longer planned to list and which were therefore sold in bargain lots.

Cardona found Cranston among the remainders. Swarthy Joe lost something of his pokerfaced attitude when

he saw the book that Cranston showed him. It was a copy of Mother Goose, the sort of thing that

It was a compliment to Cardona that Cranston had considered that he might be interested. After all, Weston

"Here's luck," Cranston told Cardona, displaying the book and its fancycolored jacket. "The only copy of

"Because this shop bought the whole remainder," explained Cranston, "and they sold all except one copy,

which they purposely kept. They like to have samples of all the remainders they handle, just for comparison."

"I've talked with the clerk," Cranston continued, "and he tells me that a few weeks ago, he sold a half a dozen

"No, except that he was a rather big man. The light is dim over there by the counter" Cranston gestured that

way "and the clerk was very busy. But he remembered a sale of six and also that the man said he wanted

"Check on Thorne's grandchildren," stated Joe. "Find out if he has six or more "

"Or less," put in Cranston, "or any. That was just an excuse. Wait, here comes the clerk. Perhaps he has some

The clerk had it, and in a tangible way. He was unwrapping a flat package and as he finished, he triumphantly

"This just came in by messenger," the clerk announced. "Very timely, I'd say, if you want to buy a copy. It's

Thumbing the pages as he spoke, the clerk gave a dumbfaced stare. Among the pages were large square

gaps, where portions of the book had been clipped with scissors. But Cardona didn't take it dumbly.

"It's one of Thorne's books!" exclaimed the inspector, seizing the volume. "Look, Mr. Cranston, these are

"Easy enough to check them," returned Cranston, taking the mutilated book. "Here, I'll call the page numbers

Tally they did. One by one, Cranston discovered that King Cole. Contrary Mary, Black Sheep, Jack and Jill,

were the missing jingles. Each told a story in itself, by its jagged absence. But those weren't all. As Cranston

From between the pages fluttered the missing verse that had been cut from this additional page. Cranston

"Thorne sends these to the crooks who work with him," stated Joe. "I'd like to know who this one was for,

Cranston's reply was a slight gesture along the book store aisle; turning, Cardona saw Diane Marlow

approaching. Reaching one hand for his revolver, the other for a pair of handcuffs, Cardona was about to

"I don't think the girl is involved," said Cranston calmly. "She wouldn't have come here if she were. You see,

"And so did I, right now," interposed Cranston, gesturing to the Humpty Dumpty clipping. "It's a nice way of

"Unless that message was for this girl," began Cardona; then, as Diane arrived, Joe decided to follow

As he said this, Cardona gave Diane a cordial bow, or at least as cordial a bow as he was capable of making.

The blonde gave the inspector a grateful smile. It seemed good to be getting some cooperation from the law.

"Perhaps we should see the commissioner," suggested Cranston, "now that we can show him this cutup

"He'd accuse you of being the cutup," returned Cardona. "You know what he wants. We're supposed to find

"There's no way of producing Thorne," said Cranston, "but we might drop around and see Hapwood."

"Hapwood was King Cole," reminded Cranston. "He might be able to identify Humpty Dumpty for us. If he

could remember some of that correspondence of his, he might give us a lead. The commissioner certainly

That convinced Cardona. They took a cab outside the Book Worm, and rode straight to Hapwood's, with

Diane as a member of their party. Though silent, the girl was thinking intently, wondering what Hapwood's

reaction would be when he remembered her as the person who had delivered envelopes stuffed with blank

The moment they rang Hapwood's door bell, a servant admitted them, and hastily beckoned Cardona upstairs.

He hurried there, with Cranston and Diane close behind him. On the way, the servant buzzed quick words to

Cardona and the inspector had his gun out as he strode between the curtains into Hapwood's big living room.

There, seated in his heavy chair, was Hapwood, his hands half raised. Confronting him was Thorne, gripping

a revolver to keep Hapwood covered. As Cardona entered, Thorne turned and let his own gun fall when he

"You're wanted for murder, Thorne! Here is the witness who can prove your guilt!"

From the doorway, Lamont Cranston watched, silent as he stood between the curtains. It seemed that crime's

WINSLOW THORNE was still defiant in his big bluff style. Anything to brazen it out seemed his motto, or

"You killed Rex Cardiff," denounced Cardona. "Don't try to deny it, Thorne. This girl was a witness."

"She was more than a witness," he affirmed. "She was to be a victim. Cardiff's victim, not mine. Ask her."

"Yes, Cardiff intended to kill me," Diane declared. "He wanted to plant the crime on Thorne "

"So I came in and planted it on myself," interrupted Thorne. "Ridiculous! Why should I do that?"

"What nonsense is this?" he demanded. "First I come here to square matters with Hapwood; now people are

talking in riddles. All I did was save this girl's life" he made a despairing gesture toward Diane "and now

Oddly, Diane couldn't help but concede that Thorne had saved her life, or at least had prolonged it. If he

hadn't seen the Jack and Jill message, if he'd had no part in it, his words could be taken at face value. Noting

"Matters are badly mixed. If this girl can claim she was framed, so can I. She came rushing out of Brandom's

when I was on the way there. I wasn't even near Cardiff's hotel suite when she dashed out through the lobby.

At my place, I simply exerted the right of any householder to protect my property. I had to handle Cardiff

"You'll be accusing me next!" Hapwood stormed. "Or you'll try to lay the blame on chaps like Tarvel and

Alcott. Fortunately, they have alibis, just as I have. If you want to be totally preposterous" Hapwood

turned, inspired by an after thought "why don't you accuse the commissioner's friend, Mr. Cranston?"

As Hapwood gestured toward the doorway, Cranston, speaking from between the darkness of the curtains,

"It wouldn't be too preposterous," stated Cranston. "After all, my alibi might not hold. I doubt that even

"I can answer that one," returned Cardona, figuring that Cranston wanted an answer. "You were at the public

"You were there when the commissioner phoned. In fact you were so busy studying Mother Goose that

"In other words, inspector," returned Cranston, "I might not have been there at all."

"Like Tarvel and Alcott," suggested Cranston, "the night they were supposed to be at the Hotel Metrolite, the

"Right here," returned Cranston. "Ready to tie you up when you learned that the police were coming here.

They still had time to hurry out and go back to the hotel, at your order, Hapwood."

"Old King Cole," defined Cranston. "He called for his pipe and his bowl. Perhaps the pipe represented the

bonds from Quade's first robbery, loot that he passed to Tarvel. The bowl could have been the jewelry from

A disdainful expression spread itself over Hapwood's massive face to show his depreciation of Cranston's

"Fiddlers Three," added Cranston. "Quade, Tarvel and Alcott. They all received the same message, clipped

from Mother Goose books. Not messages pertaining to coming crime, but a summons to come to crime's

"A most entertaining theory," acknowledged Hapwood. "So you believe that I misrepresented facts in stating

"With purpose too," put in Cranston. "The description fitted a pair like Thorne and Cardiff."

"Once the police misjudged the purport of the King Cole message," continued Cranston, calmly, "it was

smart for you to send another before each succeeding crime. The night of the Brandom robbery you used

Contrary Mary. Tarvel left ten minutes early to come over here, while Alcott fixed himself a perfect alibi."

"Tarvel did come here!" snapped Hapwood. "He talked to Thorne on the phone, ten minutes after the crime!"

"No he didn't!" put in Thorne, excitedly. "He talked only to Alcott. I'm sure of it."

"Tarvel didn't talk to anyone," assured Cranston, coolly, "because he couldn't have gotten here in twenty

minutes. The transverse was closed off across Central Park, so the trip would have taken thirty minutes. The

The statement was a clincher, but Hapwood didn't take it that way. He even put on a jolly smile and waited

"You learned Diane's address" Cranston was directly accusing Hapwood now "and planted a Black Sheep

message there as preliminary to the Cardiff robbery. You were the masked man in that instance, Hapwood;

not Thorne. You left here ahead of Tarvel and Alcott, staged the robbery, and made a hasty return.

"Nicely timed, that job. Tarvel and Alcott reached the hotel just too late to be implicated and gave you an

alibi by saying that they'd left you here. You were the person who switched those envelopes in the dark and

Cardona stepped forward, bringing out his handcuff's, hoping they would be large enough to encircle

"You murdered Cardiff," Cranston told Hapwood. "You went to Thorne's, leaving your stooges, Alcott and

Thorne, right here, making long distance calls. When the commissioner managed to put a call through, they

"That person" Cranston paused dramatically "calls himself The Shadow. He was outside this house,

Hapwood, and he followed you, straight to Thorne's. If need be, he can testify that you were a third party in

It rang home to Diane, just as the shots had punched away on that fatal night. Diane remembered now that a

gun had blasted from the wide door and that she'd wondered how Thorne could have shifted over there so

rapidly. There hadn't been time for The Shadow to prevent Cardiff's death, because the victim himself was

trying to commit murder and The Shadow's first duty was to prevent that deed. In fact, Cardiff's death was in

"Quite remarkable," declared Hapwood. "You will say next that I sent Cardiff up to Thorne's."

"It was Cardiff's own idea," returned Cranston, "but the obvious one. Your part was sending Diane the Jack

and Jill message to lure her there too. You'd heard that she wore flowers on the night of the dinner party and

The handcuffs were circling Hapwood's pudgy wrists. He was half turned about and the light that came from

the flames in a large fireplace threw a demoniac gleam upon his face. In the glare, Hapwood's features

The time for argument was past and Hapwood knew it. No use for him to wait and hear Cranston explain the

final machination, how Hapwood had sent the Mother Goose book with its Humpty Dumpty clipping to the

Hooking Cardona's own wrists with his huge fists, Hapwood showed himself a man of power as well as bulk,

by hauling the stocky inspector full about. Half lifting Cardona from his feet, Hapwood gave him a mighty

At the same moment, Hapwood raised a tremendous bellow that fairly shook two ornamental screens flanking

each side of the fireplace. Those screens toppled forward and across them sprang Alcott and Tarvel,

Cranston would have been their first target if he'd been anywhere to find. But in that interim, Hapwood's

accuser had dropped back through the curtains, letting them close in front of him. A moment later, those

curtains were parting and from their folds, a blackclad figure launched in a low, arrowlike drive, past the

Reaching Hapwood before the bulky man could grab up Thorne's lost gun, The Shadow hoisted the huge

murderer and flung him hard against Tarvel and Alcott. In the confusion, Cardona heard The Shadow's quick,

sharp order, uttered as he went past. Joe acted in accordance. What Cardona did was rush Thorne and Diane

Before Tarvel and Alcott could find The Shadow with their guns, he was at the fireplace, flinging new

missiles their way. The Shadow was using flaming logs that hurled masses of sparks wherever they struck.

Dazzled, startled, the stooges were recoiling, leaving only Hapwood to hurl himself upon The Shadow.

Reeling about with Hapwood, The Shadow kept the man's big bulk toward his other adversaries. Meanwhile

those logs were doing swift, devastating work. Their flames had reached the screens, the fancy hangings, and

The Shadow had begun a holocaust that was turning Hapwood's domain into a hellish scene that suited its

Amid the crackle and the smoke, Tarvel and Alcott fled choking from the room and staggered down the stairs

right into the waiting hands of Cardona and Thorne, who were backed by Hapwood's servants, honest men,

With smoke pouring down the stairs, Cardona thrust the prisoners to the street, shoving Diane and Thorne

along to safety. The open air offered the only safety now, for when Cardona turned to be back upstairs, the

The conflagration was vivid at the upstairs windows. Its very rapidity had attracted the attention of the

neighborhood, for along with far away whine of a patrol car's siren came the greater howl and the clangor of

As everything seemed to converge upon this scene, Diane kept staring anxiously at those blazing windows,

hoping to see The Shadow. Then great streams of water were meeting the flames and steam dominated the

scene, until above a playing hose, Diane saw two figures gain the roof. Lighted by the glow of the still active

The fighters parted suddenly, The Shadow wheeling toward a wall dividing Hapwood's roof from that next

door, while Hapwood gained the vantage point of a cornice at the front of the house. The Shadow stumbled as

Horribly the meaning of the final Mother Goose message swept home to Diane Marlow:

They meant The Shadow, those lines! Having taken a worse choking than Hapwood from the smoke, he was

Only to Diane, Hapwood looked more like Humpty Dumpty as he squatted on the wall that topped the front

cornice. But even at this distance, Diane could see Hapwood gloat as he aimed his gun for The Shadow.

Cardona was hauling Diane out past the curb. The clatter of horse's hoofs announced mounted police, who

were arriving to fling back the crowd. All that significance was lost on Diane as she saw two guns spurt:

Hapwood had fired first, but he had missed, for he was tilting away as he aimed. Hapwood's strategy worked,

however, for his lean caused The Shadow's shot to go wide too. The next opportunity was Hapwood's, but to

Diane's amazement, he leaned further instead of straightening; in fact, Hapwood leaned so far that his shot

The front wall was responsible for Hapwood's lean. It was toppling forward, downward, cornice and all,

toward the cleared sidewalk below. The fire was practically out, but that wall top hadn't stood the strain of

Like Diane, Cardona realized that fact as they both heard the bellowed shriek that came from the bulky

figure, plunging earthward with the cornice. The hiss of water, the clatter of bricks, drowned that death cry

from Hapwood's lips as he was lost in the mass of debris that reached the sidewalk with him.

Stunned like the other observers, Diane could only stare at the pyramid of bricks that had become a

murderer's temporary tomb. Then, staring at the squad of motionless firemen and the mounted police on their

quivering horses, Diane could feel the finish of the verse clash through her brain:

That was right, they couldn't. The law was king now, for Artemus Hapwood was no longer King Cole. He

Briefly, a beckoning figure in black rose upon the low wall, then dropped lightly and easily to the adjoining

roof. The connecting parapet had remained intact and with it, The Shadow had done likewise. Cardona

understood that parting beckon; it meant that the house was safe enough to enter and begin the search for the

As for The Shadow, he was off again into the darkness that veiled his mysterious way. No longer exhausted,

A weird laugh, that blended into persisting echoes, The Shadow's pronouncement of a final triumph over