BELLS OF DOOM.............................................................................................................................................1

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

CHAPTER I. THE FOUR PLAYERS ....................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. TWO TALK TERMS .......................................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. THURSDAY NIGHT...................................................................................................10

CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW'S PART ..............................................................................................14

CHAPTER V. THE LAWYER SPEAKS ..............................................................................................18

CHAPTER VI. LESTER SPEAKS.......................................................................................................23

CHAPTER VII. FROM THE TOWER.................................................................................................29

CHAPTER VIII. THE SHADOW ENTERS .........................................................................................33

CHAPTER IX. DEATH DISCOVERED..............................................................................................38

CHAPTER X. THE NEXT EVENING.................................................................................................42

CHAPTER XI. MIDNIGHT APPROACHES .......................................................................................47

CHAPTER XII. THE SHADOW MOVES...........................................................................................50

CHAPTER XIII. AT ZANGWALD'S...................................................................................................53

CHAPTER XIV. OUTSIDE THE HOUSE ...........................................................................................57

CHAPTER XV. THE LAW CONFERS ................................................................................................62

CHAPTER XVI. HARRY'S MESSAGE ...............................................................................................67

CHAPTER XVII. THROUGH THE CRYPT ........................................................................................71

CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE MANSION ................................................................................................76

CHAPTER XIX. MURDERERS FOILED...........................................................................................79

CHAPTER XX. IN THE CRYPT ..........................................................................................................84

CHAPTER XXI. CRIME DISCLOSED...............................................................................................89

CHAPTER XXII. THE FINAL DEATH ...............................................................................................91

The question came in a suave tone. It was uttered by a shrewdfaced young man who was one of a party of

four. The men were seated at a card table; the tuxedoclad speaker was riffling a pack of cards as he spoke.

"Let's call it quits, Claverly," responded a second player. This man, middleaged and portly, was pleasant in

"All right, Messler," agreed Claverly. "You're the heavy loser. You're the one to choose."

Messler hesitated. Claverly's statement made him think of the other players. Messler looked across the table

"You have lost also, Rosling," observed Messler. "If you would like to extend the game, I am willing."

"Not for me," growled Rosling. "I've been hooked for enough dough already. You're the banker, Claverly.

As Claverly complied, Messler turned to the fourth player. He was facing an impassive, hawkvisaged

personage who had made no comment. Messler put a formal question to the fourth player.

"How about it, Cranston?" he queried. "Do you agree that it is time to end the game?"

Chips were clattering. Rosling was turning in his small stack. Messler had an even smaller pile. Cranston's

chips, however, were many and of varied colors. Claverly, eying them as he prepared to pay, realized

Dull, muffled throbs were audible all the while. These four were aboard the steamship Laurentic, in passage

from Liverpool to New York. The pounding of the engines accounted for the throbs, for the ship was

These four men were alone in the smoking room of the liner. It was past midnight; other passengers

stragglers who had ventured from their cabins had retired. Yet these four, untroubled by the roughness of

It was not surprising that the rough passage had not troubled them. During their acquaintanceship aboard the

Laurentic, each had learned that the others were accustomed to ocean travel. Augustus Messler, the portly

gentleman, was a wealthy New Yorker who was completing a voyage around the world. Milton Claverly, the

suave young chap, was ending a trip from Australia. Charles Rosling, the man with the hatchet face, had

The fourth member of the party Lamont Cranston had proven to be the most experienced voyager of all.

He had sailed every ocean and was familiar with lands which, to the others, were no more than names.

Cranston had arrived in London just in time to board the Laurentic. He had reached the English capital after a

Accounts settled, Augustus Messler began to comment on these facts. Settling back in his chair, the portly

man puffed at a huge cigar and chuckled as he surveyed his companions. He seemed undisturbed by the

"Travelers, all of us," commented Messler. "It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. It

"Myself, for instance. My trip around the world began as a pleasure journey. I had no expectation of

adventure until I decided to visit the north of India. My trip to Delhi changed everything. It was there that I

"From then on, my trip required caution. I hired guards for my journey from Delhi to Calcutta and it was well

that I did so. Twice, attempts were made to rob me. I did not feel safe until I was out of India."

Messler paused to chuckle. Claverly was eying him shrewdly. Rosling was interested, although he tried to

feign indifference. Cranston, impassive, was watching the speaker with steady gaze.

"I worked a clever trick in Calcutta," resumed Messler. "I engaged passage on a P O liner; then took a boat

that left two days earlier. That was a wise course. They arrested five men aboard the P O ship before it

reached England. Those fellows were held as suspicious characters. It is believed that they came aboard to

"In London, I conferred with the authorities at Scotland Yard. They arranged for my passage aboard the

Laurentic. My jewels are safe on this ship. The New York police will see that I am protected when I arrive

Messler paused with a beaming smile. He looked toward Cranston, as though expecting his companion to

"My experience differs from yours," he stated. "I went to South Africa, prepared for adventure. I trekked the

veldt; then set forth through the jungle. I was the only white man in the expedition, until we had passed Lake

"Yet in my search for adventure, I found none. The entire trip lacked excitement. Danger existed; but it never

came close enough to be a menace. We bagged big game; but always in easy, methodical fashion."

MILTON CLAVERLY smiled suavely. The contrast between the two stories amused him. He felt that it was

his turn to speak; so he presented a tale that differed completely from the others.

"I've been to a lot of places," stated Claverly, "and I've had my share of adventures. I wound up in Adelaide,

"Then I received a cable. It announced the death of my father. The cable was from his lawyer. I was needed

back in the States. So here I am on my way to collect a legacy. There's something of a mystery about it, as

"My father was reputed to be very wealthy," replied Claverly. "At one time he just about owned the little

town of Torburg, where he lived. But his lawyer informs me that the affairs of the estate were quite involved

"I'll collect a worthwhile inheritance, I suppose. But it won't be as large as I might have expected. I guess my

father slipped plenty when he grew old. Lost his hold on business. Poor investments, probably. But I'll make

out all right. Torburg will be my home instead of Adelaide. Twelve thousand miles apart that's all and it

Charles Rosling had risen from his chair. Steadying himself as the boat rolled, the hatchetfaced man

"I've traveled plenty, too," asserted Rosling. "But it hasn't been for pleasure or adventure. Business that's

all. I've got no jewels, no big game, no legacy. I don't want 'em. I'm tired of crossing this big pond on a lot of

tubs that jump around in bad weather. But I've got to do it, on account of business.

"That's my story. My idea of pleasure and adventure is holding some good hands in a card game. I didn't get

any tonight. All I did was get hooked for a bunch of dough. So I'm turning in to see if I can get six hours'

Rosling strolled from the smoking room, lurching with the roll of the ship. The others watched his departure.

"Some people get very little from life," observed the portly man. "That fellow Rosling is one of them. He's

"I like to keep up acquaintanceships that are worthwhile. Now that Rosling has left us, let me extend an

invitation to you two gentlemen. You have heard me speak about the jewels that I acquired in India. Probably

MESSLER paused to look from Claverly to Cranston. The former showed only mild interest; the latter was

"On Thursday night," declared Messler, "I expect to invite a few chosen friends to my home on Riverside

Drive. They will have the opportunity of viewing the gems. I should like to have both of you among the

Claverly frowned as he lighted a cigarette. He was considering the invitation, glancing toward the ceiling as

"I'm due in Torburg," he said, "but I can probably arrange to stay a few days in New York. I'd like to look

about town before I leave. I'll call my father's lawyer by long distance, to tell him that I am detained. Yes,

"Suppose I call you," responded Cranston. "I am not yet sure of my plans. I am contemplating a trip to

Patagonia, which may offer some of the adventure that I failed to find in Africa. But it will probably be

"I think I can count on you, then," decided Messler. He arose and Cranston copied his example. "Good night,

gentlemen. Don't be surprised if you see a squad of police when you dock. They will merely be detailed to

Claverly was still seated when the others left the smoking room. The suave young man was finishing his

cigarette. He watched Messler waddle from the room. He saw Cranston follow, a few moments later.

Unlike Rosling and Messler, Cranston did not experience trouble from the rolling of the ship. Across the

smoking room, he caught his balance with each lurch. The same was true when he reached the passageway.

Tall, sweeping in stride, this traveler from Africa moved as steadily as if he had been walking on solid

ground. He descended a stairway, followed another passage, and paused at the door of a firstclass cabin. He

There was a click as Cranston drew the cord of a table lamp. His tall form showed as a dim outline just

beyond the range of light. The shaded illumination revealed him stooping above a bag that rested on a rack.

Black garments came into view. A cloak swished over shoulders. A broadbrimmed slouch hat settled upon

Cranston's head. Then came a soft, whispered laugh as the transformation was completed.

Lamont Cranston had become a being of blackness. Thin gloves were slipping over his longfingered hands.

A hand drew the light cord. The blackened figure merged with the solid darkness of the room.

The door of the cabin opened. Out stepped the sinister form that had developed within. Silent in tread, this

shape moved along the deserted passage. A ghostly visitant was aboard the steamship.

MEN of crime would have faltered had they seen that figure. For this being was one of whom they talked in

hushed voices. He was no haunting ghost; he was a grim reality. This strange creature who had replaced

In places where danger lay; in spots where opportunity lured men of crime there one could expect The

Shadow. Master of darkness, a fighter who battled evil, The Shadow made it his task to thwart the hordes of

Suspects aboard a P O liner radioed reports of attempts to gain a fortune in jewels these had been

sufficient to bring The Shadow from New York to Liverpool, in time to board the steamship Laurentic.

Scotland Yard had relied upon the strength of the ship's safe to guard Augustus Messler's gems. Men had

been stationed aboard as an added precaution. Messler was confident that his possessions were protected;

But all the while, the rare gems were also under the guard of an unseen watcher. Safes could be blown;

detectives could be shot down. But The Shadow, his very presence unknown, could not be eliminated. He

The voyage was nearly ended. The Shadow, everwatchful, had decided that the jewels were safe. They

would reach New York; they would be carried to a place of safety; but the trail would not end there. The

Keenly, The Shadow knew that danger lay ahead. Already he could scent the plans of scheming minds.

Before the Laurentic docked, final ways of crime would be prepared. To learn of those arrangements was The

The Shadow had dropped the guise of Lamont Cranston. In his chosen character of blackness, he was stalking

TEN minutes had elapsed since Lamont Cranston had strolled from the smoking room. A man was coming

along one of the narrow passages of the Laurentic. He stopped before the door of a cabin and unlocked it. He

turned on a light switch as he entered the room. The glare showed the features of Milton Claverly.

The young man closed the door behind him, but did not lock it. He smiled in a somewhat leering fashion as

Forgetting his winnings for the moment, Claverly doffed coat and vest and walked to a wardrobe in the

The door of the wardrobe was open. Claverly hung the garments on a coat hanger and slammed the door as he

turned away to remove his necktie and collar. The door of the wardrobe bounced open: the roll of the ship

swung it toward the wall. As Claverly turned, he saw the door hanging there as if glued in position.

The ship lurched; the door wavered. It still remained open. Claverly shrugged his shoulders. He wondered

why the door did not swing shut again, but he had no time for such trifles. He gathered up the winnings that

lay on the table and stuffed the bills in his pocket. Hardly had he done so before a cautious knock sounded at

Rosling entered. The sharpfaced man glowered as he closed the door behind him. He shot the bolt; then

"Not much," responded Claverly, as he lighted a cigarette. "Messler left shortly after you did."

"Yeah?" Rosling's voice was gruff. "Then how about that dough I was hooked for."

"Hooked?" quizzed Claverly. "I don't like the word, Rosling. It's a poor way for a fellow to talk. The fault

"Maybe I don't," retorted Rosling, "but a guy that can slide the pasteboards the way you do well, a guy like

you don't need luck. You're a card sharp; there's no use arguing that point. Come on. Divvy."

"No? Well, it wasn't arranged for you to fool around and get nowhere with Messler."

CLAVERLY smiled. He blew a cloud of smoke and eyed Rosling narrowly. The door of the wardrobe was

still open and wavering with each pitch of the ship. Claverly did not notice it; nor did Rosling.

"Let's get things straight, Rosling," suggested Claverly, in a tone that had a smooth purr. "You and I met

aboard this steam ship strangers until we had left Liverpool and we made an acquaintanceship. Am I

"Last night" Claverly seemed reminiscent "you paid me an unexpected visit in this cabin. On that

occasion, you were equipped with a businesslike revolver. You said you had come to demand a showdown. I

"I am about to mention that point, Rosling. I merely want to make the details plain before we continue. Last

night, after I withdrew my theory that you were a detective, you insisted that I was a crook. You stated that I

Claverly smiled. He eyed Rosling carefully. There was a smoothness to Claverly's countenance that the

"You jump to conclusions, Rosling," he said. "First, you decided that my luck at cards proved me to be a

sharper. That meant that I must be a crook. Next, I was friendly with Messler. That proved that I was out to

trim him. Finally, you knew that I had come to England on the P O liner that Messler had planned to board at

"Exactly," agreed Claverly, "and those suspects are now held by Scotland Yard. I am not among them. I am

"That you're wiser than those guys they grabbed in England. Too wise for Scotland Yard; but not wise

"Your nickname is a good one, Hatch," observed Claverly. "It makes you appear to be exactly what you claim

to be a New York crook. I admire your frankness, Hatch. After you accused me of being a crook you

THE young man smiled. His suave expression indicated an agreement with Rosling's statement; but Claverly

"Quit the hokum," ordered the hatchetfaced man. "All that counts is one thing: we'd both like to grab those

"Yes," admitted Claverly, "I must confess that the rajah's gems intrigue me. However, I had not formed any

"Sour grapes," growled "Hatch. "You ran into the same trouble I did. Couldn't figure a way to snatch the

swag. The jewels are safe aboard this tub. But after we get to New York, it'll be different."

"Yes, you will be in your own territory. You will have the opportunity that you need. But my position will be

quite different. Assuming that I did want Messler's jewels, New York would be the last place that I could get

"And that is what surprised me. Here, aboard ship, our positions are equal. We could be of use to each other.

"So that's it, eh?" Understanding showed on Rosling's sharp countenance. "You've been thinking things over

"Well, do some new thinking," ordered Hatch. "Look at it this way. You've made friends with Messler. You

can work from the inside. All you need is the mob to come in and grab the jewels when you give the signal.

"Yes," agreed Claverly, "I admit that my position would be a good one. I could work from the inside; you

"The terms. A fiftyfifty split. Rather a generous concession on your part, Rosling. You could hire another

Rosling had begun to scowl; his expression changed as Claverly's statement ended. Rosling had an answer.

"Listen, Claverly," he asserted, "there's two reasons why we ought to go fiftyfifty. First, because you're the

best person I could get for the inside job. Second, because either one of us could queer the other.

"Suppose you worked from the inside and snagged those jewels by yourself. I'd know what you were doing. I

could take the swag away from you afterward. See? And suppose I came busting in with a job of my own.

"Well there's the lay. There's only one answer. Teamwork. A divvy. There's no catch to it. We talked things

CLAVERLY considered it. Rosling watched him light a second cigarette from the stump of the first. Then

"All right, Hatch," he said. "You'll go after those jewels anyway. So we might as well talk turkey. You figure

"Yeah. You'll have to grab the first chance you get, or tell me the reason why."

"Messler talked after you left the smoking room," explained Claverly. "He spoke to Cranston and myself. He

invited us to visit his home on Thursday night. We are to view the rajah's jewels."

"Under the circumstances," added Claverly, "I shall remain in New York. I shall probably meet Messler off

and on before Thursday. Of course, I shall express anxiety about getting back to Torburg."

"That's a good stall," agreed Hatch. "But don't overplay that talk about your father's estate."

"But it isn't." Claverly delivered a broad smile. "You made a bad guess, Hatch, when you thought that I was

"Precisely. The estate will not be large; but it actually exists. That's why I'm coming in from Australia."

"Say" Hatch paused to chuckle in commending fashlon "there ain't any guy but you for the inside work.

You've got a straight story. You can back it up. Messler's invited you to his place. It's sweet."

The chuckle continued as Hatch turned toward the door. His hand on the knob, Hatch delivered a parting

"Don't worry about the dough I lost tonight," he said. "Keep your winnings. It was worth it. We know how to

get in touch with each other after we reach New York. We talked over the job last night.

"We'll pull it just as we planned. The guys outside, waiting for the signal. You give the tip and act like you

were surprised like everybody else in the joint. Thursday night that's set. Unless something goes sour."

HATCH unbolted the door and departed. Claverly puffed his cigarette alone. Turning, he strolled to the

wardrobe and took out his coat and vest. Donning the garments, he folded the coat collar around his neck. It

was plain that he intended to take a short stroll on an upper deck, as a relief from the stuffiness of smoking

Claverly strolled out. He closed the cabin door behind him, but did not lock it. This was proof that he would

Silence reigned in the room where the light still burned. The door of the wardrobe wavered.

Timed to a slight roll of the ship, the door swung shut. This was the first time that it had acted in such

fashion. The explanation came a moment later when blackness moved from between the wardrobe and the

Blackness became a living shape. Materializing from the darkened area, the figure of The Shadow grew into

being. Tall and sinister, the cloaked form moved silently across the cabin and paused by the outer door. Then

A sibilant laugh, confined to the limits of the creaking cabin. That was The Shadow's aftermath to the

conversation that he had overheard. The Shadow had reached this cabin ahead of Milton Claverly. From a

The door of the cabin opened. The tall shape glided into the corridor. The door closed.

A few minutes later, Claverly returned. The door of the wardrobe was swinging free. The young man pushed

it open so that he could hang up his coat and vest. Then he closed the door. This time it remained shut.

Two had talked terms within this cabin. Those terms had concerned Augustus Messler's jewels. The gems,

though safe aboard the Laurentic, would be in jeopardy on Thursday night. Crime lay in the offing. When it

THE Laurentic had docked. Thursday night had arrived. Augustus Messler was at home in his Riverside

Drive apartment. This was the evening scheduled for the display of the rajah's gems.

Messler lived on the fourth floor of an imposing apartment house. Situated on an eminence above the river,

this building appeared lofty from the Drive. Observed from the streets above, it nestled against the side of the

From that direction, where thoroughfares were seldom frequented, approach to the apartment house was an

easy matter. A side entrance a fire tower both offered opportunity for easy access to the building.

It was on one of the rear streets that a coupe had stopped. Two men, in the darkness of the car, were talking in

low voices. Their conversation ended as a sibilant whisper came from the street side of the coupe.

Instructions followed, delivered in a strange, uncanny voice. Then blackness detached itself from the side of

the car. Streetlights revealed a glimpse of a fleeting form that moved away in ghostlike fashion. After that,

The two men stepped from the car and followed in the direction that the phantom shape had taken.

These two were Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland. Aides of The Shadow, they had driven to this spot, there

to await instructions. The Shadow had investigated the methods of approach to Messler's apartment. He had

THE SHADOW reached the fire tower. He ascended. The only traces of his passage came when he passed

lighted balconies that indicated the floors of the building. There his form materialized momentarily, only to

There were two entrances to Messler's apartment. The one that led to the kitchen was situated near the fire

tower. The other entrance was further along the hall. The Shadow chose the kitchen entrance. He passed

There was a door opposite. It was ajar. The Shadow could hear the sound of voices. He approached and

peered within. He saw Messler talking with Milton Claverly; the two were in a room that was fitted like a

The Shadow listened to snatches of conversation; then came an interruption the buzz of the bell at the front

door of the apartment. The Shadow turned and glided quickly across the living room. He chose the path

Messler had come from the study and was on his way to answer the door. The Shadow could hear the opening

of the barrier. Voices followed and two men appeared, following Messler back to the study. The Shadow,

Both were from headquarters. One was Detective Joe Cardona. A stocky, swarthyfaced individual, Cardona

was recognized as an ace among dicks. He was at present serving in the capacity of acting inspector. His

presence here meant that Messler had decided that police protection would be necessary when the rajah's

Cardona's companion was Detective Sergeant Markham, who frequently accompanied the ace when Cardona

As the three men Messler and the sleuths went into the study, The Shadow laughed softly. His tones were

The arrival of these representatives of the law introduced a new element into the situation. Apparently,

Messler had arranged for Cardona and Markham to arrive before the guests appeared. Claverly, however, had

This fact afforded opportunity to The Shadow. Instead of returning across the living room, to listen in at the

study door, The Shadow remained in the dining nook. Swiftly, he divested himself of hat and cloak. He

stowed these garments in a small curtained cupboard; to them, he added a brace of automatics.

When he again faced the soft light that came from the living room, The Shadow was in the guise of Lamont

With long strides, The Shadow crossed the kitchen and went into the outer hall. He moved to the main door

There was a short pause; then the door opened and Messler appeared. The host appeared relieved to observe

"HELLO," said Messler. "I hoped it would be you, Cranston. I had not expected anyone to be here so soon."

"Er no" Messler hesitated "Claverly is here already. I well, we have a while yet, and I think you had

"Not exactly. Claverly just happened to be here. Other persons are concerned. It will be all right for you to

"At the Cobalt Club." A thin smile showed on Cranston's lips. "The night was mild, so I strolled outside

without them. Stanley my chauffeur happened to come along with the limousine, so I stepped aboard and

Messler was conducting Cranston across the living room. They reached the door of the study as Cranston's

statement was completed. They entered. Cranston seemed mildly surprised to see Joe Cardona and Markham.

The headquarters men knew Cranston. He was a friend of the former acting police commissioner, Wainwright

Barth; he was also acquainted with Ralph Weston, the present commissioner, who was back at his old job

Messler had evidently told Cardona that Cranston was among the guests; for the detective did not show

The men seated themselves about the study. Messler took a chair behind a desk; Claverly was close by.

Cranston sat down near Cardona and Markham. Like the others, he waited for Messler to speak.

"Let me resume," said Messler. "I have time to give Mr. Cranston a brief explanation of what is impending.

Since he knows you, Cardona, he has probably guessed that you are here on account of the rajah's jewels.

"The jewels, Cranston, are in that safe" Messler pointed toward a strongbox set in the wall of the study

"and I intend to bring them out after all my guests have arrived. In the meantime, I well, I have become a

bit concerned about the gems, I thought or better, suspected that there might be danger here tonight.

"So I arranged for protection. These two men" he indicated Cardona and Markham "will station

themselves here in the study, to be ready in case any trouble may occur. I decided when Claverly arrived

"Claverly is one; you are the other. I have revolvers here" Messler paused to bring the weapons from the

desk drawer "and if it is all right with Cardona, I shall have you two men equip yourselves with these guns.

"All right," responded Cardona. "But don't say anything to the rest of the guests."

"Certainly not," agreed Messler. "I shall have a revolver of my own. We three will be in the living room;

Cardona and Markham will remain here. Of course, gentlemen" this was to Cranston and Claverly "we

must not use our weapons except in case of emergency. Should any marauders appear here, I feel sure that

KEEN eyes were upon Milton Claverly while Augustus Messler was speaking. Those were the eyes of The

The Shadow knew that a brief conference had been held prior to his appearance as Cranston. Hence he was

In fact, the young man from Australia was more suave than usual. He chanced to speak to Messler while The

Shadow's eyes were watching him. Unconscious of the critical gaze, Claverly appeared completely at ease.

The discussion continued. Messler had chosen the study as the best place for Cardona and Markham to be

stationed. While in this room, the men of the law could guard the safe. Later, they would hold a commanding

position, for the study door gave a view of the outer door of the apartment and a portion of the dining nook.

Claverly was listening to Messler's plans. Accepted as a confidant by his host, Claverly had become an inside

man on both games. He knew that a raid was coming; he also knew what steps were being taken should

The Shadow, in turn, knew the plans that had passed between Claverly and Rosling, aboard the Laurentic.

The thin smile that showed upon Lamont Cranston's lips was the only reflex of the thoughts that were passing

Upon Claverly depended the signal for the raid. It would be impossible for Claverly to get word to Rosling

that the police were here. Yet Claverly could easily offset the efforts of the law by simply withholding the

required signal. That, at least, would mean stalemate. Cardona and Markham waiting within; crooks lurking

But did Claverly intend to forego the signal? Something in the man's easy manner had impressed The

Shadow. Those keen eyes that stared from the visage of Lamont Cranston were unflinching in their steady

survey. The Shadow could observe something that others did not notice a tenseness that Claverly showed in

A BUZZER sounded. More guests were arriving. Messler arose from his chair and indicated the door. He

waited until Cranston and Claverly had walked into the living room. Then he followed. He closed the door of

Messler admitted his guests. They were the first of several arrivals who came in quick succession. All were

Half an hour after the conference had ended, there were a dozen guests seated about Messler's living room.

Interest was in the air. All were anxious to see the rajah's jewels. Messler decided to end the impatience of his

When he returned, he was carrying a long, flat box. This was the receptacle that held the jewels from India.

Men gathered about. Exclamations sounded as Messler opened the box to reveal a dazzling display of gems.

Bloodred rubles, sparkling sapphires and deepgreen emeralds vied in resplendent beauty.

After the first inspection, the throng spread slightly. Guests listened while their host began to display the

Milton Claverly was standing by the window. Keen eyes watched the young man raise the stump of a

cigarette to obtain another light. The Shadow, watching, knew that the action could be viewed by anyone

Claverly flicked the stump from the window, turning in that direction as he did so. His gaze steadied off

toward the Drive, to the lights that followed the line of the Hudson River. From below, quartered in the

seclusion of the side street, any watcher could have noted Claverly's procedure.

A smile was firm on the lips of Lamont Cranston. In this guise, The Shadow was ready to thwart the attack

that he knew must follow. For Claverly's action meant one thing only: The inside man had passed the signal

MINUTES passed after Claverly's signal. The time period had no effect upon Augustus Messler. The owner

of the rajah's jewels was continuing with his description of the gems. His guests were listening with quiet

Milton Claverly had strolled away from the window. He had crossed the room and was standing on the far

Lamont Cranston, however, had made no move. He was in the place that he had originally taken. He was just

This spot suited The Shadow for the present. It gave him a command of the outer door. It also enabled him to

flank the dining nook. One of those two entrances must be used by the expected raiders. The Shadow held a

position that was quite as effective as the study door where Cardona and Markham lingered.

Keenly, The Shadow was watching Claverly; yet the young man did not notice the eyes that were upon him.

Claverly, where he stood, was out of sight of both Cardona and Markham. He, too, could watch both

It was plain to The Shadow that Claverly did not know from which direction the crooks would enter. That

was not surprising. The conversation aboard the Laurentic had indicated that Claverly would handle the

Hence The Shadow was watching Claverly, knowing that the inside man would show some change of

expression when the crooks arrived. It was not necessary for The Shadow to gaze toward either door.

Strain had begun to show on Claverly's countenance. There was a reason. Although men from headquarters

were present, Claverly had given the signal. He had set a tough task for the crooks who would soon be due.

Did Claverly think that Rosling's band could overpower the watching detectives? Did he fear to postpone the

signal for the raid, thinking that he might incur Rosling's antagonism? Did he feel that he might be called to

So far as the crooks were concerned, Claverly could pretend that he had not known of the detectives in the

study. On the contrary, he was running a risk of exposure if the raid went wrong.

In his analysis of Claverly, The Shadow had given the young man credit for being a smooth worker. The

Shadow was sure that Claverly must have had reason for giving the signal in spite of the difficulties that

The glint of The Shadow's eyes; the firm, unchanging smile that showed on his fixed lips these were the

only indications of The Shadow's thoughts. The Shadow was gaining a definite conclusion. He knew that

Claverly had chosen to play a bold game; that the young man was uncertain as to the outcome.

Succeeding seconds seemed to mark their effect upon Claverly's demeanor. For the first time, the inside man

THEN came a change. There was a creaking sound from the dining nook, a noise which The Shadow heard.

Something must have been visible there also, for Claverly's eyes had turned in that direction. Messler, talking

Claverly shifted nervously. The Shadow turned. At the same instant, a big, roughfaced raider stepped into

view from the dining nook. He was followed by two others. A growled voice made Messler and the guests

"Stick 'em up!" came the order, backed with revolvers. "Keep your mitts high! Drop them jools and back up

Messler obeyed. His guests copied his example. The Shadow saw Claverly feign total surprise, as the young

man raised his hands along with the others. But The Shadow's hands were not lifted. His right, going to the

The raiders had not noted the tall form of Lamont Cranston. When the leader swung in that direction, he

stopped short at the sight of the revolver which suddenly covered him. The man uttered a growl, calculated to

bring his fellows to his aid. But before they could turn, an answering challenge came from across the room.

Cardona and Markham were springing into view. At sight of the detectives, the crooks knew that the trap had

closed. Sullen faces glowered as horny fists dropped guns upon the floor. Caught between Cranston and the

Messler sprang to guard his jewels. His guests formed a group behind him. The revolver dropped back into

Cranston's pocket while Cardona and Markham forced the three crooks off in the direction of the study.

"So it's Mike Tocson, eh?" Cardona was speaking as he eyed the leader of the three crooks. "Brought in a

couple of gorillas to see what you could grab. Well you won't be fencing that stuff. You'll be doing a turn

up the river. We've got the goods on you. This makes you a fourth offender, Mike. Looks like you'll stay in

The mobleader snarled a retort. His face was venomous; but he knew too well that Cardona would stop him if

Messler and his guests looked on with interest as the crooks backed away from the guns of the detectives.

The tall globetrotter had played his part in aiding Cardona and Markham. Quietly, he had strolled away. He

had entered the dining nook and passed from view. The Shadow had played his part as Lamont Cranston. He

"Get in that room," barked Cardona, thrusting the muzzle of his gun against Tocson's ribs. "Get in there the

The detective stopped short as Tocson laughed hoarsely. The man was staring beyond Cardona, looking

straight toward the outer door of the apartment. Backing, Cardona swung in that direction. His action was

Coming through the doorway was a new squad of three desperadoes. The crooks had worked a double game.

One crew had come through the kitchen; the other had headed for the main door. The first raiders had been

AS Cardona and Markham wheeled to meet these new enemies, Tocson and his two gorillas pounced upon

the two detectives. Down went Cardona and Markham. The new crooks sent the guests cowering toward the

walls. Only Messler, drawing his revolver, was ready to fight in this emergency.

Then came the first shot. It roared from an unexpected quarter the entrance of the dining nook. The shot

was delivered from an automatic held in a blackgloved fist. With the burst came the jeering tones of an

Cardona and Markham were milling with Tocson and the two gorillas. But the other pair of crooks at the door

were ready for the menace. They saw it before a single guest could turn toward the dining nook. They knew

The shot the laugh these were the tokens of the ominous presence. The sight of a tall being garbed in

black brought frenzied cries from the crooks at the outer door. Simultaneously, the two men aimed at the

sinister figure that had appeared as if from nowhere. They wanted to get The Shadow before he could loose

Revolvers cracked. Bullets zizzed wide of their mark; for the crook's shots came in haste. A splitsecond

later, tongues of flame roared from both automatics. Stabbing shots found their marks. The frenzied gorillas

His action was well timed. Tocson, battling with Cardona, had wrested away the detective's gun. A revolver

gained, the mobleader was making a desperate effort. The Shadow, then Cardona. Such was Tocson's plan.

But The Shadow had foreseen attack from the corner of the room. His quick whirl flashed the crimson lining

of his black cloak. His action was not a mere turnabout. In his speedy move, The Shadow went sweeping out

into the center of the room, heading toward the outer door where sprawled raiders lay helpless.

It was this fast action that saved The Shadow. For Tocson, most desperate of all the raiders, was the surest

shot of the lot. Had The Shadow remained stationary, he would have been a perfect target for Tocson's fire.

THE revolver barked as Tocson swung his aim. Shots sped close to the moving target, but they failed to nick

the traveling form in black. Tocson's bullets thudded into the walls. Two shots were wide; the third went high

Then came the answering report. It was a perfect shot from The Shadow's righthand gun. Tocson, linked

with Cardona, offered a difficult target. Only the mobleader's right arm and shoulder were certain marks for

The bullet from the automatic lodged in Tocson's shoulder. The mobleader slumped. Cardona knocked the

A gorilla grasped Markham's gun as his companion twisted the detective sergeant toward the floor. The crook

aimed for The Shadow. He was too late. Again an automatic thundered. The gorilla succumbed.

Then came another shot. It dropped the last gorilla as he was about to pound Markham's head against the

wall. The crippled crook rolled on the floor. Cardona and Markham, rising, grabbed their guns. They looked

Swiftly, The Shadow had swung out into the hall. He expected reserves. He encountered them. Some were

coming from the fire tower; others from a passage that led to a side stairway. As The Shadow appeared,

Then came shots from behind them. Crooks wheeled. Cliff Marsland and Harry Vincent had separated; each

had followed one group of crooks. The Shadow's laugh sounded weirdly through the hallway as his

One opening attracted them. This was the door to Messler's kitchen. They took it, to avoid The Shadow's

shots; to escape the fire that his agents were delivering from the rear. But this led them into a new trap that

Plunging into Messler's dining nook, the crooks were met by the fire of Cardona and Markham. Two gorillas

fell; the others dropped their guns and raised their arms. Surrender to the law was better than another hopeless

Sweeping along the hall, The Shadow had neared the fire tower. With one quick movement, he drew off hat

and cloak. He hissed an order; Cliff Marsland stepped into view. The Shadow thrust his black garb into his

Cliff turned and headed down the fire tower. Harry Vincent, at the end of the side passage, had also heard

The Shadow's command. He took to the stairway. The agents were hurrying back to their coupe. The

Shadow, again in the guise of Lamont Cranston, was ready to return to Messler's apartment.

He chose the door through the kitchen. Carrying the revolver that Messler had given him, he came through

the dining nook to find Cardona and Markham covering the last of the raiders. Messler and Claverly had also

CLAVERLY'S suavity had returned. There was nothing in his manner to show disappointment because the

raid had failed. He was working with the law, like Messler and Cranston. Safe with the winning side, he

Despite the number of raiders, there was one absentee. That man was Hatch Rosling. Apparently, he had left

this job to lesser crooks. Gorillas were sullen; the only one who might speak was Mike Tocson, glowering

With prisoners guarded by Markham, Messler, Claverly and Cranston, Joe Cardona turned to quiz the

crippled mobleader. Tocson had crawled along the floor and was glaring upward in defiance. Before Cardona

A revolver glittered. It was Tocson's own weapon. He had reclaimed it from the floor. Finger on trigger, the

Then came two reports. One was the crackle of the .32 that Messler had given Cranston. It came first. It

Then came the burst of Cardona's revolver. It was a belated shot. But Cranston's prompt aim had saved Joe's

life. The detective fired instinctively, even though Tocson's arm was dropping. The mobleader sprawled,

Two hours later, a blue light glimmered in the corner of a blackwalled room. The Shadow was in his

As Lamont Cranston, The Shadow had received congratulations for his effort in behalf of the law.

Presumably, he had been trapped with other guests; like Messler and Claverly, he had been ready at the

The mysterious arrival and departure of The Shadow was unexplained. Crooks dead, wounded and captured

had been removed from Messler's apartment. The jewels were safe, with police on guard. Tomorrow, they

Guests had departed, among them Milton Claverly. The young man like Lamont Cranston had been

commended for his aid. He was going back to Torburg. Nothing had been said that might have connected him

The Shadow's hand began to write beneath the light. Coded words, in ink of vivid blue. Deft fingers folded

the completed message. Again, The Shadow laughed. He had completed instructions to his agent, Harry

For The Shadow sensed that crime was not ended. Hatch Rosling was still at large. Milton Claverly had left

unmolested. While those two were active, The Shadow intended to keep watch. The paths of Claverly and

Rosling had crossed aboard the Laurentic. Perhaps those paths would cross again.

Cliff Marsland would seek traces of Rosling in New York; Harry Vincent would watch Claverly in Torburg.

For The Shadow could foresee another meeting between Rosling and Claverly. When that time came,

The speaker was a firmfaced, grayhaired man who had risen from behind a mahogany desk. His grip was

forcible as he shook hands with Milton Claverly. This was Louis Vandrow, the Torburg attorney who

Seating himself opposite the lawyer, Milton lighted a cigarette and began to smoke while he waited for

Vandrow to speak again. The attorney was busy with a file of documents which evidently pertained to the

The window of the office gave forth a good view of Torburg. A town of scattered dwellings, the community

appeared to be enjoying an afternoon siesta. Milton Claverly smiled as he studied the vista that the window

Torburg had no railroad. Hence the town had spread out in a natural fashion. The central district was nestled

in a depression that lay between sloping hills. The building that housed this office was on the outskirts.

Rising, Milton strolled to the window and viewed the town for a beginning. He saw the old hotel that had

existed since stagecoach days. He noted the cluster of stores that he remembered since childhood. He turned

his gaze toward residences that were situated among trees. He could not see his father's house, for it was past

a slope; but on the intervening rise of ground he observed a structure that was new to him.

THIS was a rounded tower, some forty feet in height. It was built of stone; and its walls were tapering. There

was a door at the bottom; but the tower was windowless until near the top. There, Milton saw an eightsided

belfry, which had slits for openings. The tower was capped by a large, octagonal cupola that topped off the

The question came from Vandrow, who had finished with the papers. A smile showed on the lawyer's rugged

"He built that crazy tower?" Milton shook his head in a puzzled fashion. "No wonder he lost so much money.

"A gift to the town," replied Vandrow. "There had been talk of a monument upon that slope. Impossible

suggestions were made regarding it. So your father settled the matter by building the belltower for the

"Some whim, I suppose. Your father was a man of original ideas. He had made money. It was his right to

"Maybe," grunted Milton. "But he might have left more to his heirs than he did. Don't let that statement

mislead you, Mr. Vandrow" Milton paused as he added the additional comment "because I'm not thinking

of myself alone. Whether or not I shared in the estate would have made no difference.

"It's simply my opinion that a belltower like that one is a senseless idea. I'm not saying that to criticize my

father; I merely mention it to back up my theory that he must have slipped a bit during his later years."

"You are wrong, Milton," returned Vandrow, shaking his head, "entirely wrong. You were not here when

your father died. You had not seen him for a great many years. I assure you that your father, David Claverly,

"He built one belltower. It was more sensible than some stupid monument to which he would have been

asked to subscribe. It remains, at least, as a unique memorial. I, for one, approved of its construction."

"All right," laughed Milton, "I'll vote for the belltower. It's not surprising, though, that I didn't like it when I

"So I recall," mused Vandrow. "Yet you and he had real understanding. He often remarked on that fact to me.

He said that he had made his way through the world and that he wanted you to do the same. That was why

"He staked me," stated Milton. "Gave me fifty thousand dollars. I shot the works. Spent it inside of a year.

After that well, I had to battle my own way. I was too proud to come back home."

"Yes, but the going was tough for a while. My father knew of some of the troubles I ran into. I used to write

MILTON paused. He puffed at his cigarette, then noticed Vandrow's friendly expression. He decided to

"I guess some of my letters wouldn't look good in print," said Milton. "They might give the idea that I had

followed a pretty shady career. But after I settled down in Adelaide, I put all that behind me."

"A wise procedure. You can forget the past, Milton. Youthful escapades seldom produce serious

consequences. As for your letters to your father, I feel sure that he must have destroyed them. That is, unless

The lawyer arose to approach an opened safe. He brought forth a tin box and handed it to Milton. The box

"I left the key with Lester," explained Vandrow, "your father's old servant. The box probably contains

The lawyer seated himself at the desk and began to tap the file of documents that he had been studying.

"Your father," stated the attorney, "encountered unexpected misfortunes in his business enterprises. I must

admit that those troubles came during his later years. But they can not be attributed to failing mentality.

"David Claverly made only one mistake. That was in confining his activities to the Torburg section. He

handled all building contracts in this vicinity. His wealth increased year by year. But he ran into opposition."

"Other prominent men," replied Vandrow. "No one individual could have damaged your father's business. It

took a combination to perform that deed. There were three who seemed to envy your father's success."

"Maurice Dunwell was one. You probably remember him. He is a local manufacturer."

"Stuart Hosker, a man who is important politically. He was the second. Willis Beauchamp, the local banker,

"Yes. They controlled different bodies of selectmen in the neighboring townships. Your father ran into

unexpected losses on his contracts. His work failed to gain the approval that the specifications demanded."

"Yes and no. He always met opposition bluntly. In this case, he practically abandoned the contracting

"To sell land to a power company that intends to build a huge reservoir near Torburg. That was proof of your

"No. Unfortunately, however, he ran into new troubles with his contracting business. He was forced to

"Yes. But only because of death. His notes were coming due and I feel sure that he could have paid them.

"A flock of crooks!" Milton's comment was vicious. "What did they do? Kill my father?"

"QUIET, Milton," warned Vandrow. "There is no proof that they sought to do physical injury to your father.

In fact, subsequent events proved that those three men did not appreciate the value of the land that they had

"A holding company. A concern which will probably sell it to the power company later on. Had Dunwell,

"That's one satisfaction," decided Milton. "Well, those are three names I'll remember. Dunwell Hosker

"Then what about Abner Zangwald?" inquired Vandrow, with a shake of his head. "He was your father's

"That's different," retorted Milton. "I remember Zangwald. Owned a lot of farm land, didn't he?"

"Well, he wasn't one of the three conspirators, was he? I guess when father died, he had to take the property

"That is precisely what I mean. Zangwald stands in a position that the others failed to gain. He intends to

keep the property until the power company needs it. He may gain a full million by its sale."

"He did. In fact, he and your father alone knew for a certainty that the power company intends to come to

Torburg. The others are not positive of it, even yet, and they have sold out to the holding company."

"Then it looks like Zangwald is a crook in his own right," asserted Milton, hotly. "You asked for my opinion.

With this statement, Milton Claverly arose. Louis Vandrow did the same. He picked up the folio of papers

"You are as headstrong as your father," rebuked the lawyer. "That was his great falling. A tendency to

"And look at the deal he received," interposed Milton. "Maybe, if he had kept on being tough, he wouldn't

"There is still some left," reminded Vandrow, tapping the folio. "Considerably in excess of one hundred

thousand dollars, to be divided between yourself and your father's ward, Phyllis Lingle."

"There should be millions," protested Milton. "You admit that yourself, Vandrow. That's your trouble; you're

"It is getting late, Milton," said Vandrow, in a kindly tone. "We do not have time to go over affairs in detail.

"All right," agreed Milton, staring at the window. He saw that dusk was gathering outside. "But I think I

"Talk with Lester," suggested the lawyer. "He was in the house when your father died. Ask him for the key to

the box that I have given you; and bring up the subject of your father's death."

With that, Vandrow led the way through the door and down a flight of stairs. On the street, he and Milton

parted ways. The lawyer walked in toward the town; Milton took a street that led in the direction of his

THE road curved along the side of the hill. As he followed it, Milton Claverly stared up toward the

belltower, which stood like a forgotten chimney upon the summit of the little hill.

The tower reminded him of an oldworld campanile. The shrouding dusk brought memories of the past.

Staring at the tower, Milton realized that this bleak structure was a memento of his father. It spoke of

Vengeful utterances came from the young man's lips as his eyes gazed steadily toward the tower. Louis

Vandrow had seen the outburst of Milton Claverly's anger. This was a new manifestation of the wrath that the

As Milton Claverly continued on his way, the epithets that he growled were those of ill wishes for the men

who had despoiled his father. Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp were the men whom Vandrow had named.

To those three, Milton had added another of his own accord. That was the name of Abner Zangwald.

IT was later that evening. Milton Claverly was standing in front of an open fireplace, warming his hands

above the glowing hearth. He was in a room that had brought back childhood memories the library of his

Seated close by was an attractive girl of twenty. This was Phyllis Lingle. Her father had been an old friend of

David Claverly. After her father's death, the contractor had become her guardian. Phyllis had lived here ever

Milton Claverly had remembered Phyllis as a child of five. He had been surprised upon meeting her tonight,

for the little girl of his recollections had grown to womanhood. Phyllis seemed older than her years. She was

His meeting with her had caused Milton to subdue the rage that he had felt after his conversation with Louis

Vandrow. For the first time since his discussion in the lawyer's office, Milton felt ready to resume talk

"You were here when my father died?" questioned the young man, turning to Phyllis.

"No," replied the girl, in a tone that bore a touch of sadness. "I was away at school and I had not been

"Yes. But he had very little to say when I returned. I learned simply that your father died very suddenly. It

The girl's voice had choked. Milton spoke soothingly, wondering what had caused her sudden hesitation.

"I forgot that you did not know about the crypt," said Phyllis. "Your father when he was growing older

developed one very strange phobia. It seemed well, it seemed that he gained a fear of being buried alive."

"I don't know. I believe that once, when he was ill, he fell into a trance condition. However, he dreaded the

"The first was when they placed his body in the crypt. His will called for that, Milton. The crypt was a special

addition that he built to the house. There is one entrance in the cellar; another outside."

"Yes, to remain there for a week. After that, it was removed and taken to the cemetery."

MILTON pondered over the girl's words. This was a new angle that concerned his father's death. After a brief

"Yes." The girl's voice quavered. "But don't talk about the belltower, Milton. Those bells I can remember

"No!" Phyllis gasped as she made the statement. "No! If I had heard them then I I think I would have

The girl's face had whitened. Milton could see her trembling. He approached and spoke in a quiet,

"I'll forget it, Milton," she said. "But don't talk about the bells. Ask Lester about them. He can tell you "

At that moment, Lester entered. A stoopshouldered, cadaverous fellow, the servant possessed eyes that were

both keen and suspicious. He directed his gaze toward Milton and acted as though about to ask some

"Someone wishes to speak to you on the telephone," said Lester. "A gentleman from New York, sir."

"So he said, sir," stated Lester. "He told me that he knew a friend of yours a Mr. Lamont Cranston "

"A friend of Cranston's, eh?" broke in Milton, quickly. "I'll talk to him, Lester. Where is the telephone?"

Milton left the library. When he returned five minutes later, he found Phyllis alone in the room. The girl had

"A chap selling real estate," remarked Milton. "Buying it, too, for that matter. His name is Harry Vincent and

"I met him on the boat," replied Milton. "An interesting chap. A millionaire globetrotter. He was returning

The young man paused to light a cigarette. This was a giveaway habit with Milton Claverly. His natural

suavity was sometimes lost when he came to a stopping point in conversation. On those occasions, he

This time, Milton was wondering whether he should mention more concerning Lamont Cranston. He decided

"Cranston and I went up to see a wealthy fellow named Messler," resumed Milton. "There was trouble up at

the place. Some gunmen tried to steal a batch of Messler's jewels. He had detectives there; Cranston and I

"I remember telling Cranston that I had property here in Torburg. I suppose he told this chap Vincent to stop

here and see me. Well, I'll talk to Vincent tomorrow. He's staying down at the hotel. I might invite him up

MILTON went back to the fireplace. Phyllis picked up a book that she had been reading. She announced that

After the girl had gone from the library, Lester passed through the room. Milton hailed him.

"I want to talk to you, Lester," said the heir. "First, about that key to the box that Vandrow gave me. Did you

"Something else, Lester." Milton's tone was nonchalant. "Regarding my father's death. What was unusual

A strange look appeared upon the servant's cadaverous countenance. Lester's eyes stared through narrowed

Milton met the focused gaze; he could see a glitter that the servant was unable to suppress.

"Come on, Lester," urged Milton. "I was talking with Mr. Vandrow. He said that you could tell me "

"I can!" Lester spat the words. "I can tell you that your father was killed! I can speak to you, for you are his

"I do not know," returned Lester. "But he died by someone's hand. His enemies wanted him to die."

"No. If they had, I would have slain them instead. I do not know how my master was killed. I had been

watching him. I had given him his medicine, as Doctor Humbrell told me to do. Nothing had been touched.

"It is not suspicion, sir. I know that someone brought about the master's death."

Milton shrugged his shoulders. He had expected intelligent answers from Lester. These statements were

disappointing. The servant seemed to realize that fact. He approached and wagged a finger.

"No, sir. But some change was made in the directions. There were new prescriptions new hours at which to

"Nothing, sir." Lester's tone was solemn. "There was nothing he could say, sir."

"Because" Lester's voice had become a croak "Doctor Humbrell died the same night as your father. He

"They called it an accident, sir," responded Lester. "Some miscreant had opened the drawbridge over the old

canal. Doctor Humbrell's car toppled from the road. He was drowned before he could be rescued."

MILTON paced back and forth. This was an incident that Vandrow had not mentioned. Probably the lawyer,

like everyone else, believed that the physician's death had been an accident. Then a thought struck Milton.

"Lester," said the heir, "tell me about the bells. Why does Miss Phyllis fear them?"

"Because they tolled the master's death," croaked the servant. "And never since have they been rung. They

"I mean it, sir. They called it an accident; but I know the truth. They did not believe me when I told them that

Milton took a chair while Lester perched himself on the edge of a bench. In his same croaking tone, the

servant resumed the story. His voice pictured the events of which he spoke. Milton Claverly could almost see

"The master had a spasm after Doctor Humbrell had gone," explained the servant. "He dropped back on the

pillows. I knew that Doctor Humbrell could not have reached his home. I called up the young doctor who

"He came here and pronounced your father dead. He went downstairs to telephone to different persons, while

I remained here. The master was lying before me" Lester spread his hands "like a corpse. I, too, thought

"Time went by, sir. The young doctor had not returned. He was making many calls. Then I heard the bells"

Lester cupped his hand to his ear, as if hearing an echo from some distant space of time "the bells in the

tower. Those were the bells that your father had placed there. Those bells were to ring the death of people

"The bells were ringing for the master. Slowly, sir, as though they knew who it was that had died. The bells

were filled with sorrow. Tears came to my eyes as I listened. Then I heard breathing. I looked toward the

master" Lester's eyes opened and stared toward an imaginary bed "and I saw him saw him, sir rising

LESTER was on his feet. The old servant's eyes were glowing wildly. He was playing the part of his dying

master, repeating words, gasped words, that had been indelibly impressed upon his memory.

"He said: 'The bells! Bells of doom! They are ringing for me! They will be silent, those bells that ring for me.

Lester's quaver ended. The servant sank back upon the bench. It was Milton who was on his feet. Eagerly, the

"That was all, sir. No more. He sank back upon the pillows. He was dead. He had heard the bells. They kept

Milton paced across the room. The story had impressed him. Just as he had pictured the sight of his dying

father, so could he imagine the ringing of the bells in the tall tower. Tracing back from effect to cause, the

"He did not know," responded Lester. "He said that someone called his home and told him to ring the bells. A

"Yes, sir. The tower has been closed and locked. But some time" Lester's eyes glared venomously "those

"I told it to the young doctor. To Mr. Vandrow. To Mr. Zangwald. To others, sir such as Miss Phyllis and

"Yes, sir. But his body was removed one week later. It was buried in the cemetery."

Milton nodded. This matched the statement that Phyllis had made. Milton strolled across the room and picked

up the tin box that he had received from Vandrow. Lester eyed the object curiously.

"Documents of my father's," remarked Milton. "Other objects, perhaps. This little key that you gave me will

WITH that, Milton walked from the library and ascended the steps to the second floor. He was going to the

The servant heard his new master's footsteps dwindle. Then Lester shambled from the library and went to the

rear of the main hall. He opened a door that led to a driveway behind the house.

There, Lester stood staring through the moonlight. To his left was the low roof of the sealed crypt that

extended from the house. But the servant's eyes did not turn in that direction. They were gazing toward the

right, toward the slope upon which the old belltower stood ghostlike in the moonlight.

A fierce expression came upon Lester's face. Crossing the drive, the servant turned his view toward the town

below. He raised a clenched fist as his lips spat curses. His venom was directed upon the town of Torburg.

Imprecations ended, Lester went back into the house. The bolts of the door clicked shut. The mansion, like

the belltower, rested silent beneath the moonlight that shone upon the little town of Torburg.

THE next evening found a group of three assembled in the library of the old Claverly home. Milton Claverly

Harry had met Milton late that afternoon. He had accepted an invitation to dine at the Claverly house. Dinner

had been set late; the meal had passed without event. Now the three were gathered in front of the fireplace in

To Harry Vincent, this had been a most amazing visit. Amazing because it had been without incident.

Usually, when Harry set forth at The Shadow's bidding, he encountered strange conditions in short order. But

Harry had come to Torburg to make the acquaintance of Milton Claverly and to watch events that might

concern the man from Australia. Harry knew that Milton had been present at the affray in Messler's

apartment, but he knew nothing of any part that the young man might have played there.

Often, The Shadow dispatched his agents without giving them too much information. This left them free to

draw conclusions from what they might actually encounter not from what they might expect to happen.

Hence Harry knew only that he was to watch Milton Claverly; and he had reduced his task to two simple

The first was that Milton was faced by some unseen menace a trap into which he had placed himself by

coming to Torburg. The second was that Milton had come here for purposes of crime. The man might be a

To Harry, Milton seemed a likable chap. Yet The Shadow's agent was suspicious of the fellow's suavity.

Milton had a steady eye, one that could meet any glance. At the same time, his talk was smooth and he had

the ability of diverting the conversation from any subject that was not to his liking.

Evidence of this came shortly after they had gone into the library. Phyllis made a chance remark that brought

"LONG distance was trying to get you today, Milton," said Phyllis. "It was shortly after you had left for Mr.

"Lester told me of the call," responded Milton. "When I came in from Vandrow's, I called the operator. It was

a mistake. She had the wrong number. Vandrow is my lawyer" this was to Harry Vincent "and he's the

"You mentioned his name during dinner," stated Harry, pretending not to note how Milton had changed the

subject. "Did he tell you much about your property holdings when you saw him this morning?"

"He talked considerably," said Milton. "But very little of the property is really worthwhile. My father lost

"Three men here in town. Big shots who tried to ruin his contracting business. They managed it and they

grabbed a lot of property as well. Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp birds of a feather, those three."

Milton paused speculatively. As in Vandrow's office, he was beginning to boil. He was not satisfied with his

"Abner Zangwald is a phony, too," he stated. "Pretended to be a friend of my father's. But he grabbed his

share of land. He's holding it for a big cleanup, the skinflint! I'd like to wring his neck!"

"That's not fair, Milton." The protest came from Phyllis. "You may be right about the three men whom you

"So you thought," gibed Milton, "but I'm not so easily fooled. After what Vandrow told me "

"He didn't. That's the funny part of it. Vandrow stood up for Zangwald. The old geezer is fooling him just as

much as anyone else. Listen, Phyllis. My father bought a lot of property for a good investment. Three men

"But Zangwald is holding on to what he got; and that proved him to be a fox. Dunwell, Hosker and

Beauchamp did their dirty work when they smashed my father's contracts. Seizing the property was just an

"Meanwhile, Zangwald lay back. He was a friend. But he stands ready to clean up a million dollars on that

"A million!" exclaimed Phyllis. "That's impossible, Milton. The other men made no such profit as that when

MILTON reached for a cigarette. He realized suddenly that Phyllis Lingle knew nothing of the power project.

He had forgotten that the matter was still a secret, so far as the public was concerned. As he lighted his

"Guess I was exaggerating," he grumbled. "I just figured that old Zangwald wouldn't be hanging on to the

land unless it meant plenty of profit. There's an idea for you, Vincent. Why don't you look up this fellow

"Plenty," replied Milton. "I tell you what I'll do. I'll ask Vandrow about the exact property that Zangwald

acquired from my father. Then you stop around to see the old egg and try to buy some of it. Tell me how you

"All right," agreed Harry. Then, seeing that Milton was about to dismiss the subject, he took that task upon

himself. "Speaking about property," he added, "Who owns that old tower up on the hill?"

A pallor showed on the face of Phyllis Lingle. Milton Claverly sobered as he puffed his cigarette. He was the

"My father built that belltower," he informed. "He gave it to the town of Torburg. The bells were placed

there to peal forth certain tidings. One purpose was that of sounding death knells for the departed "

"Don't!" Phyllis was pleading as she rose from her chair. "Don't talk of that, Milton! I can't bear it!"

"I'm sorry," apologized Milton. "I had forgotten how you felt about those bells, Phyllis "

His plea ended as the girl went from the room. Unable to control her emotions, she was sobbing as she left.

"The bells sounded my father's death," the heir said, in a sober tone. "Lester the old servant spread some

absurd rumor that my father had revived while the bells were tolling; that he called them 'bells of doom.'

"No one was present to verify the story. It may have been the product of Lester's imagination. However, the

"No," replied Milton, "but she learned the story. It was usual to toll the bells during important funerals in

Torburg; but that custom was omitted when my father was buried. Perhaps the fact that the bells were silent

Harry nodded. He could see that Milton was perturbed. Harry attributed that fact to the young man's concern

Lester entered while Milton was standing silent; the arrival of the suspiciouseyed servant increased the

Harry glanced at his watch. He noted that it was close to eleven o'clock. He decided that it would be wise to

Milton Claverly made no effort to stay his guest's departure. Lester produced Harry's hat and coat. The

WHEN he reached the hotel, Harry sat down in the lobby and lighted a cigar. There had been something

ominous in the incident at Claverly's. It foreboded strange events in Torburg. Harry wished that he could

learn more concerning the belltower. He wondered who could give him the complete story.

It was nearly midnight when Harry had finished his cigar. Meanwhile, a lanky, stoopshouldered man had

entered the small lobby of the old hotel. This fellow was talking with the proprietor when Harry arose and

"I left my coupe on the street last night," informed Harry. "You said it would be all right. What about

"It's too late," returned the proprietor. "The only garage in town closes at ten o'clock. Did you lock your car?"

The proprietor chuckled. He pointed to the lanky man who was slouched on the desk.

"Mr. Vincent," introduced the proprietor, "shake hands with Sheriff Locke. He represents the law in this

"Leave it where it is," said the sheriff, as he shook hands with Harry. "If old Conkling wants to shut his

garage at ten o'clock, it's his own hard luck. I'm not going to drive visitors away from Torburg by putting

"Thanks," said Harry, "I appreciate it, sheriff. I expect to be in town for several days "

He stopped. A telephone had rung behind the desk; the proprietor, answering the call, was beckoning to the

sheriff. The official took the instrument and growled a hello. His conversation was a brief one. He banged the

"I want to use your car," exclaimed the sheriff. "You drive it take me up to Maurice Dunwell's. I'll show

"I'll tell you later," returned Locke, grimly. "Hurry, Vincent. We've got to get up there quick!"

They hastened from the hotel and clambered into Harry's car. The sheriff pointed the way. Harry shot the car

"Dunwell's been shot," he stated. "That's what his niece said. He's a big fellow in this town, Dunwell is. A

manufacturer. There take the street to the left. Last house on the right where the lights are "

HARRY pulled up in front of an old mansion. He and the sheriff leaped from the car. The front door opened

Locke strode in that direction. He paused when he had crossed the threshold. Harry Vincent stopped beside

Slouched in an easy chair was the figure of a wizened man attired in a dressing gown. This was Maurice

Dunwell. His head was bent forward upon his chest. His hands, with clawlike fingers, were clutching the

Just below the level of the man's bentdown chin was a jagged, bloodstained mark upon the dressing gown.

Blackened burns showed with the crimson stain. Maurice Dunwell had been shot through the heart, at close

"I I heard the shot," gasped Dunwell's niece, speaking from the door. "Then then the front door closed.

The girl paused. The sheriff was nodding solemnly as he studied Dunwell's body. A whirring sound came

from the mantelpiece. A clock struck the hour of twelve with quick, short strokes.

The sheriff did not notice the sound of the strokes. He approached the body and placed his hand on the

"Dead," he said, turning to Harry. "It's murder. No question about it. I'll call the county coroner, to tell him

The sheriff broke off. He swung about in sudden amazement as a new sound came to his ears. Harry Vincent

From far off came the sound of a solemn bell, a stroke that rifled through the outside air. It was a note that

Again the melancholy stroke. Ghoulishly, it floated to the ears of these listeners, bringing involuntary shivers

Harry Vincent knew the source of that sound. The knell was coming from the old belltower! These were the

tones that had tolled the death of David Claverly. High in the deserted belfry, the brazen clappers were

Bells of doom! Their monotone continued. Rusted throats were clanging the death of Maurice Dunwell. A

murderer's triumph was gaining its announcement. Throughout the neighborhood of Torburg, sleepers were

MINUTES passed. They seemed endless. Yet the three living people stood as rigid as the corpse of Maurice

Dunwell. The throbs of those brazen bells were hypnotic. They held the listeners motionless. Then, with the

Echoes persisted. Cold night air, sweeping in through the opened front door, carried a chilling quiver. The

clangor had left a menace in its wake. Silenced, the bells were as terrible as before.

Long seconds elapsed before the sheriff could find his voice. When he spoke, his words were gasps that came

"The bells the bells in the tower!" Locke was stammering as he turned to Harry Vincent. "They pealed the

death of David Claverly. He he said they would ring again. We have heard them! I heard them yes, I

The sheriff shuddered as he paused. His hardfaced countenance had paled. Mechanically, he raised a hand

"They were ringing for this man," he blurted. "The bells were ringing the death of Maurice Dunwell!"

THE town hall of Torburg was a remodeled structure that stood on the slope of one of the hills about the

village. This building was the meeting place for all town committees. It housed the offices of various

Usually, the town hall was closed at night. But on this evening, nearly twentyfour hours after the death of

Maurice Dunwell, the lights of the old building were aglow. Cars were parked outside the town hall.

A group of men were in conference. They were gathered about a long table in a fairsized room. At the head

sat a big, bushybrowed fellow whose thick lips and glaring eyes marked him as a dominating personage.

This was Abner Zangwald, at present the chairman of Torburg's board of selectmen.

Other members of the board were present. With them were certain persons who had been summoned to the

meeting. Sheriff Wheaton Locke was present, accompanied by Harry Vincent. Louis Vandrow, attorney for

the board, was near the lower end of the table. The county coroner was also present; and the final member of

the group was a roughly dressed fellow Absalom Yokes, formerly the bell ringer in the old tower.

This group had joined in solemn conclave to discuss the episode of the preceding night. Under ordinary

circumstances, a meeting of this sort might have been amusing to Harry Vincent. But the present occasion

Abner Zangwald was speaking in a rumbling voice. Harry, staring across the room, fixed his eyes upon a

doorway that led to a little anteroom. As Harry watched, he saw the door move inward. The motion was

In the morning, Harry had managed to send a wire to New York. His telegram had been a simple message,

pertaining to real estate transactions. It had been dispatched to Rutledge Mann, an investment broker whose

That telegram, however, had constituted word to The Shadow. Mann, like Harry, was an agent of the

mysterious chief. The simple dispatch had meant that trouble had broken out in Torburg.

Afterward, Harry had written a coded report, which he had left in an envelope on a table in his hotel room.

Tonight, Sheriff Locke had called to take Harry to the meeting of selectmen. The envelope had still been in

its place when Harry had left. But the agent felt sure that The Shadow must have arrived to find his report.

Harry believed that the motion of the anteroom door was a sign of The Shadow's arrival.

IN this surmise, Harry was correct. The meeting of selectmen had gained an unseen visitor. A blackened

shape stood in the space beyond the barrier. The Shadow had pressed the door so that he might see and hear.

Only his agent, expecting his arrival, had been keen enough to detect the slight token of The Shadow's

Zangwald's voice was rumbling a summary of the situation that existed in Torburg. The words came to

Harry's ears. Harry knew that The Shadow like himself was hearing Zangwald's statement.

"The murder of Maurice Dunwell," declared Zangwald, "is a matter for the county authorities. What concerns

us, as selectmen in the town of Torburg, is the ringing of the bells in the old tower. That building comes

"Who rang those bells? we do not know. Absalom Yokes was formerly the bell ringer. He states absolutely

that he did not ring them. The door of the tower is sheathed with iron. It is padlocked. We, as board of

"Apparently, some miscreant must have possessed a duplicate. That person entered, rang the bells and

departed. What was his purpose? We can suppose it to be a mere prank. If so, it was an illtimed jest. One,

Zangwald glared about the group. His eyes seemed accusing as he spoke of the unknown miscreant. The

other selectmen seemed cowed by Zangwald's glower. Peaceable, mildmannered men, they were completely

"As board of selectmen," resumed Zangwald, "we have listened to the statements of the county authorities.

Sheriff Locke and Coroner Thomas have discussed the murder of Maurice Dunwell. We know that the law is

making its utmost endeavor. Therefore, our only concern is in the matter of the belltower. We shall extend

A wave of Zangwald's hand. The sheriff and the coroner arose. Harry Vincent followed suit. The three left

Yokes, the bell ringer, was about to follow, but Zangwald motioned him to remain.

Passing through the unlighted anteroom, Harry Vincent noted blackness in a corner beyond a rack where

coats and hats were hanging. He and his two companions sheriff and coroner obtained their hats and

The figure of The Shadow swished toward the inner door. Again, the unseen investigator was listening to the

"WHY not tear down the old tower?" one of the selectmen was inquiring in a highpitched, rustic voice.

"The tower has been deeded to the town," objected Zangwald. "The terms of the gift, I believe, prevent us

"I call it unsafe now," wheezed another selectman. "People ringing those bells, waking us up in the middle of

"That is a farfetched argument," decided Zangwald. "No, the tower must remain as it stands. The question

is, should we place watchers about it to see that the ringing of the bells is not repeated?"

"Why don't you open it up again?" put in Yokes. "I'll take the old job that I used to have."

"As bell ringer?" Zangwald chuckled. "Not a good suggestion, Yokes. We do not need a bell ringer to keep

the bells from ringing. No, gentlemen" this was to the selectmen "if we decide to guard the tower, we

must place competent watchers in charge at all times. That will mean considerable expense."

Mumbles came from the selectmen. They were tightfisted fellows, accustomed to economy. This plan did

not appeal to them. At the same time, they appeared annoyed by the thought that the bells might ring again.

"Let me make a suggestion," put in Louis Vandrow. "If someone rang those bells merely as a prank, the best

plan is to ignore it. Therefore, this board should forget the matter. No one can steal anything from the tower.

"On the contrary, let us assume the tolling which occurred last night had a connection with the murder of

Maurice Dunwell. In that case, the matter might prove important to the county authorities. We can consider

the belltower as evidence. Therefore, I suggest that this board turn over the key to Sheriff Locke. Make him

Zangwald began to rumble an objection. It was not heard. The selectmen were voicing their approval of

Vandrow's suggestion. It offered them a prompt solution of the problem. Zangwald apparently saw that he

THAT ended the meeting. While the selectmen chattered, Zangwald arose and beckoned to Vandrow. He led

the way to the anteroom, found his overcoat and produced the key to the tower. He handed it to the lawyer.

Vandrow shook his head as he received the key. He wanted to give it back to Zangwald. The chairman

"Perhaps," returned the lawyer, "but I am neither a member of the board nor a messenger. I don't intend to

"Give me the key," put in another man who had come into the anteroom. It was Yokes, the exbell ringer,

Vandrow nodded and handed the key to Yokes. The man went out while the other two were putting on their

hats and coats. Neither noted the sharp eyes that were watching them from the blackness in the corner.

"By the way, Louis," remarked Zangwald, in a gruff whisper, "do you remember the last time that the bells

"Yes. Absalom Yokes rang them. He said he received a mysterious telephone call. He was ordered to ring

"I know the story. Also what Lester, the old servant, said. About David Claverly coming out of his coma, in

"Perhaps." Zangwald paused to glower toward the lawyer. "By the way, you have talked with young

"Well" Vandrow seemed reluctant in his admission "he did not seem pleased to learn that you had gained

A frown had furrowed Zangwald's bushy brows. The man scowled as he laughed gruffly. His tone was not at

"You are my attorney, Louis," he stated, dryly. "Therefore, I can speak in confidence to you. The fact that I

have entrusted my affairs to your management is sufficient proof that I can rely upon your silence.

"Therefore, I am making this statement. I intended to visit young Milton Claverly. I wanted to talk to him, to

tell him personally of my friendship for his father. I desired to gain young Claverly's regard. But I have

"Because of what happened last night," responded Zangwald, in a low growl. "Because of the death of

With that statement, the wealthy landowner turned and left the anteroom. Louis Vandrow remained, his right

hand cupped about his chin. A frown showed on the lawyer's rugged face, as Vandrow pondered over

EYES from the dark watched Vandrow's meditation. Then came voices from the meeting room. The

selectmen had finished their chatter. Vandrow aroused himself and followed the course that Zangwald had

The selectmen entered the anteroom, gathered their hats and coats and departed. Enveloped in his cloak, The

Shadow waited motionless in the corner until the throng had departed. Then he moved swiftly from the room

A janitor was locking the front door. The Shadow made his exit by a side portal that the man had not yet

Instead of turning toward the town, The Shadow took a side road that skirted the hill. He was familiar with

the terrain, for Harry Vincent's report had included a rough map of Torburg. The course that The Shadow had

A steeple clock chimed the hour of twelve. The Shadow had approached the stretch of road that lay below the

old tower. Another turn, he would be in sight of the Claverly house, which stood beyond the curve of the hill.

Suddenly, The Shadow paused. Sequestered in the darkness at the side of the road, he stared toward the top of

the slope. Outlined against the dull moonlight that filtered through clouds was the old belltower, somber and

There was no explanation for The Shadow's stop. It might have been prompted by a chance, coincidental

thought. Still, it could have been induced by an uncanny, psychic knowledge of something that was about to

Whatever the reason, the action became the forerunner of a strange event. Brief seconds passed while The

Shadow lingered. Then, as if in answer to a question that hovered in his mind, an ominous token came from

The stroke came from the belfry. It rang out through the night air. Caught by the straying breeze, it tolled its

The second stroke. No longer did The Shadow pause. That melancholy clangor could root ordinary beings to

Tonight, precisely twentyfour hours after their previous toll, the bells in the tower were ringing out another

dirge. Stroke by stroke, in solemn precision, the massive brazen cups were repeating the knell that Harry

While the bells clanged, bringing new terror to the town of Torburg, The Shadow, creature from the night,

There was rhythm in the funereal chime. Not one bell, but several, were forming a death medley as they

clamored from the tower. Heard from a distance, the monotone was strangely musical; but as The Shadow

Discordantly, the reverberations clashed. The welling strokes seemed like rusty protests. Hideously, the bells

were wrangling as their dongs no longer blended. Then, with a final crash, their knell ceased. Echoes alone

To gain this point, The Shadow had been forced to circle the tower. Scarcely more than twenty seconds had

elapsed since the clangs had ceased. The final impetus to the bells must have been given only a few seconds

His form outlined in the moonlight, The Shadow was gazing at the door. The entrance to the tower was

closed. A clamped padlock was in view. Anyone who had left the tower must necessarily have locked the

The Shadow's eyes turned to survey the ground about. The tower stood away from trees. No one could have

fled from the spot before The Shadow had gained the door. That, at least, was improbable.

It was possible that the intruder was still within. The closed padlock might have been shut by some

accomplice. The bell ringer might be waiting inside, confident that the padlocked door would shunt

There was no sign of a lurking person who might be here to aid anyone within the tower. A soft laugh came

from The Shadow's hidden lips. A gloved hand produced a picklike instrument. The Shadow wedged the

The device yielded. The Shadow fastened the padlock to the staple, after he had drawn the hasp. He opened

the door and entered the tower. His flashlight showed the interior. The tower had a concrete base; its walls

A circular stairway ran about the inside of the tower. This disappeared ten feet above, for the central portion

was equipped, at that point, with a thin wooden floor. Evidently the tower had various levels.

Swiftly, The Shadow ascended. He reached the first floor and again played the light. Here was another

section, some ten feet in height, with a floor above. Its crossdimensions, however, were less, due to the taper

Up another flight. Again, The Shadow studied a deserted floor of even smaller radius.

Then came a third floor, likewise empty when The Shadow flicked the light upon its interior. Estimating the

height of the tower, The Shadow knew that the next flight would bring him to the belfry.

Cautiously, The Shadow crept upward through total darkness. He reached the belfry. An automatic came

from beneath his cloak. The flashlight blinked close to the floor, then upward to the hanging bells. A brief

MOONLIGHT was coming through the slitted windows of the belfry. As The Shadow lingered, his eyes

became adapted to the dull glow. Passing clouds brought better illumination. All was visible. The Shadow

The belfry was about eight feet high. The bells were comparatively small ones, lighter in weight than The

Shadow had supposed. They hung from the roof of the belfry, which was absolutely level. Two cross beams

supported the bells; the rest of the ceiling was formed of boards, like the floors that The Shadow had passed.

One feature that The Shadow had noted was the arrangement of the ropes. He had seen three ropes hanging

through a hole in the ceiling at the bottom of the tower. He had traced these all the way upward. Now he

A soft laugh whispered through the belfry. The situation intrigued The Shadow. Had he found someone

lurking here, the result would have been a simple encounter. The total absence of any lurker gave The

He had heard the bells ring; he had found the tower locked; but he had discovered no one in the belfry. The

Shadow was searching for an explanation; his soft laugh indicated a determination to gain the answer to the

But before The Shadow could begin a further inspection of the bells, an interruption came from the ground

Voices sounded. Peering through a slitted window, The Shadow made out the forms of men who had arrived.

One was Sheriff Wheaton Locke. The official had found the opened door at the foot of the tower.

Conditions were reversed. The Shadow, stationed in the belfry, had no opportunity to descend the stairway

unless the sheriff and his squad decided to depart without an inspection. To them, the unlocked door might

mean that someone had come and left in haste. It might also indicate that some person was still within the

Half a minute passed. Then The Shadow saw the men enter the door below. It was plain that they intended to

inspect the tower. The Shadow desired no encounter with these representatives of the law. Their discovery of

the unlocked door had been a misleading episode. It was best that they, like The Shadow, should find the

Choosing the side of the belfry that was away from the direction of the town, The Shadow thrust one arm

through a slitlike window. His head followed; then his body. Despite the narrowness of the opening, The

Shadow squeezed through in the fashion of a contortionist, until only his legs remained within.

Then long arms reached upward and gripped the cornice of the cupola a projection which extended down to

Gaining a firm hold, The Shadow drew his legs through the window; then pulled himself straight upward. He

clutched an ornamental facade that ran along the joint of two sloping sectors. With this grasp, The Shadow

THE dome was much larger than it appeared to be when viewed from the ground. Its proportions were almost

as large as those of the belfry beneath it. From this topheavy portion of the tower, The Shadow commanded a

Spying eyes could not see him from below, for he was above the edge of the cupola. From a distance, the

moonlight might have shown his figure as a dark splotch on one section of the eightsided dome. That,

however, was the reason why The Shadow had chosen the side toward the summit of the hill. He knew that

Temporarily forgetting the presence of the sheriff, The Shadow gazed from his lofty perch. He noted the town

of Torburg; then looked in other directions. By the increased moonlight he could make out the thin thread of

a railroad a few miles away. Then his keen gaze picked spots where stretches of roads appeared upon the

Hawklike, The Shadow was using this opportunity to search for prey. He caught the glitter of automobile

lights and followed the course of a car as it sped into a wooded patch. Then, despite the clouding of the

moonlight, he kept his turning gaze upon every sweep of clear space that the view afforded.

There were muffled sounds from the belfry. The Shadow did not heed them. The sheriff and his men had

arrived; The Shadow knew that they would soon depart. Still making the most of his temporary observation

Then came a discovery. Nearly a mile away, near the bottom of the far slope of the hill, The Shadow had

noted a curving road that broke in spots where wooded stretches intervened. He caught the tiny glimmer of

automobile lights as they appeared upon that road. A car, its speed increasing, was driving away from

Blink the lights disappeared in a wooded stretch. They shone again; then blinked. The Shadow saw them

reappear upon what was evidently the right fork of a road. Then the car dipped beneath the contour of a hill

Yet The Shadow still watched. He was looking far beyond, waiting for some trace of the automobile.

Voices at the foot of the tower. The sheriff and his men had gone down from the belfry. They had departed;

The Shadow made no move; he was still watching for the reappearance of that car, estimating the time that it

would take to arrive upon an open stretch of road. A last, The Shadow laughed softly.

That car, in a sense, had come from nowhere. Specifically, The Shadow had observed two stretches of open

road near the bottom of the hill. The car had not appeared upon the first; yet The Shadow had observed it on

That meant that the car had either been parked off the road, or had come from some byway that connected

with the highway. After that, the car had disappeared as mysteriously as it had arrived. Lost by the contour of

the hill, it had evidently gone to some secret destination within five miles of Torburg.

The time element figured. It meant that while The Shadow had been ascending the tower, while he had been

gaining his post upon the cupola, some unknown person had been traveling afoot to a spot where a car was

From then on, the evidence indicated that the unknown person had driven away to a secluded place well

outside the town limits, yet within easy approach of Torburg. A considerable area was involved; yet a

WITH this clue in mind, The Shadow eased downward from the cupola. Swinging from the facade to the

cornice, he swung his tall form until he gained a foothold in a slitted window. Dropping one hand, he grasped

The bottom door had been locked from the outside. Hence The Shadow did not reenter the tower. Instead, he

began a descent down the outer wall. It was a precarious task, yet one which The Shadow performed with

Often, The Shadow used rubber suction cups in maneuvers of this sort. He did not employ them, however,

when he made the descent from the tower belfry. The rough hewn stones that formed the surface of the

With the skill of a human fly, The Shadow reached the ground and stood at the base of the tower.

Harry Vincent had given The Shadow complete details regarding the location of certain houses in Torburg. In

cutting back to the tower, The Shadow had considerably reversed his course. He was approximately half a

mile from the home of Milton Claverly. Much closer, yet in the opposite direction, was another house that

Others whom The Shadow regarded as important made their residences in more distant parts of Torburg.

Thus it was merely a matter of situation that caused The Shadow to consider a visit to Hosker's. The place

was close by; a quick trip there could be followed by a journey along the far side of the hill which would

FOUR minutes after he had left the belltower, The Shadow arrived outside a stone house that showed a

surface covered by vines of ivy. A dull light glimmered through a shaded window on the second floor. The

The window was unlocked. Noiselessly, The Shadow raised the sash. He lifted the lower edge of the curtain

to view the interior of the room. The light was coming from a bed lamp clamped to the top of a big bed.

The foot of the bed was toward the window. High and solid, it prevented further view. The window shade

rose slowly. The Shadow moved inward from the night. His tall form materialized into its cloaked

proportions. With one swift stride, The Shadow advanced and reached the foot of the bed.

Standing like a strange specter from space, The Shadow turned his burning gaze upon a figure that lay

sprawled on the bed. He saw a man past middleage, pajamaclad, with outstretched arms and upturned face.

It was Stuart Hosker. The man's face was rigid in death. The front of his pajama jacket was stained with

crimson, where the bullet from an assassin's gun had tapped the victim's heart blood.

Death had again struck in Torburg. Alone in this house, Stuart Hosker had been slain by the same hand that

had murdered Maurice Dunwell. The shot had not been heard by outside ears. Crime until now had

The Shadow's whispered laugh was solemn. Sinister, it bore no mirth. It was a grim token of new purpose to

track down some fiend of evil. That laugh bespoke the knowledge that, on the morrow, would be spread

The Shadow knew why bells of doom had tolled. Last night they had been a knell for Maurice Dunwell.

TORBURG was a peaceful place by day. It was only when darkness shrouded the town that ominous danger

seemed to approach. Harry Vincent was thinking of this contrast as he stood in Milton Claverly's library.

Last night, Harry had heard the tower bells toll their second message since his arrival in Torburg. Harry had

been at the hotel when the grim ringing had occurred. When morning came, the inhabitants of the little town

When Harry had risen, he had found an envelope upon his table. Coded instructions from The Shadow. In

response, Harry had set out in his coupe shortly before noon. He had been traveling about all day, studying a

The Shadow had deputed this work to his agent because Harry, presumably here to investigate real estate,

would naturally be driving through the countryside. In his orders, The Shadow had told Harry to look for any

Harry had uncovered several places. Most important of these was an old, dilapidated house that he had

spotted while driving along a rocky road though the woods. To all appearances, the place was deserted; yet

Harry had noted tire tracks in the mud of the driveway. He had a hunch that someone was about the old

It had been dusk when Harry made his discovery. Returning to Torburg, he had added the location of the old

house to the list of other places that he had studied. In his hotel room, Harry had left a sealed envelope for

During dinner, Harry had speculated where The Shadow might be. Somewhere about the town perhaps;

maybe entirely away from Torburg. The ways of The Shadow were strangely secret, even to his agents. Harry

felt sure of only one point: namely, that The Shadow must sleep by day and act by night. That alone could

At the hotel, Harry had received a call from Milton Claverly. The young man wanted Harry to come up to the

Returning to his room, Harry had found his report missing. He knew that The Shadow had taken it.

Communication was temporarily ended. So Harry had left a new coded report. He had gone to Claverly's; and

Lester had shown Harry into the library. The old servant had proven taciturn. He had bowed; he had ushered

Harry in; he had gone to inform his master that a visitor had arrived. That was all. But Harry had noted the

servant's face. He had fancied that he saw a gloating upon Lester's cadaverous features.

Two men had died in Torburg. Maurice Dunwell and Stuart Hosker had been murdered on succeeding nights.

Harry recalled that Milton had mentioned both of those men as persons who had robbed his father.

Lester must share Milton's dislike for Dunwell and Hosker. That explained the servant's malicious look.

Lester, apparently, was making no effort to conceal the gladness that he felt because the two had died.

STANDING before the fireplace, Harry heard footsteps. He looked up to see Phyllis Lingle entering the

room. He bowed as the girl approached; then stood attentively as he saw that concern was registering upon

Phyllis Lingle was attractive. Darkhaired, blueeyed, she had impressed Harry Vincent when he had first

met her. He remembered, though, that her quiet, friendly demeanor had changed to sheer nervousness when

The experience of listening to those dreaded dirges had produced a marked result on Phyllis Lingle. Harry

could see that the girl's mind was troubled. Her face was drawn; her lips trembled as she spoke in a low,

"Mr. Vincent" the voice was pleading "I must talk to you before Milton comes. I want to tell you why

The girl glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Milton was not approaching. She clutched Harry's sleeve

"Milton spoke to me tonight," explained Phyllis, in her quick tone. "He told me that I might have to testify

that he had been here in the house at midnight last night and the night before. I replied that I could not do

"Because" the girl was faltering "because I am not sure that he was in the house. I I was asleep both

times. Those terrible bells awakened me. They they frightened me. I dreaded to leave my room."

"Yes. That is why I can not say that Milton was here. So I told him to call upon Lester for such testimony. He

The girl stopped. She moved quickly away and seated herself in a chair. She was reading a book when Milton

The young man glanced suspiciously in the girl's direction; then smiled suavely as he approached to shake

Motioning his guest to a chair, Milton began to talk. The subject of his discourse was real estate; but Harry

knew that there must be some other reason why Milton had asked him to come here.

Ten minutes passed; then Phyllis left the room and went upstairs. Milton changed the subject immediately.

"VINCENT," he said seriously, "I'm worried. I want to tell you why. I think I can rely upon your friendship.

"People are linking the bells with the murders," resumed Milton. "That's my big worry. Those two chaps that

died Dunwell and Hosker were enemies of my father. I've got every reason to be glad that they are dead.

"Yes. Look at the facts. My father built the belltower. He was robbed by Dunwell and Hosker and

Beauchamp also. Lester spread a story that my father came to his senses while the bells were tolling his own

death; that my father called them 'bells of doom' and laid a curse on certain men whom he did not name.

"Now, when I arrive in town, the bells begin to ring again. Each knell spells murder. It looks like vengeance.

I might be the killer. I thought of it two nights ago, when I heard the bells ring out Dunwell's death. I thought

"Because I had a perfect alibi. Two witnesses, here in the house, to prove that I had not gone out. Phyllis was

one; Lester the other. So this evening at dinner, I mentioned the subject. After Phyllis and Lester had their

"First of all," declared Milton, "Phyllis said that she could not testify in my behalf. She stated that she had not

seen me within an hour before the bells began to ring either last night or the night previous. She added that

"I told her that was foolish talk; that she knew I was in the house. She agreed with me on that point. She said

"It would break down. I can't blame her for wanting to be truthful, Vincent, but I thought surely that she

"Yes" Milton's tone was bitter "Lester saw me not long after the bells rang; on each occasion. He would

Milton swung on his heel. He went to the door of the room and called the servant. Lester appeared and stood

"Lester," said Milton, soberly, "Mr. Vincent is a friend of mine. Tell him what you told me about the bells."

LESTER'S leer turned to a venomous, toothless grin. Fists rising, clenched, the servant voiced hoarse words,

"Bells of doom!" he crackled. "Bells of doom! They have brought judgment upon those who did evil! My

master told that this would come. I heard him, when he rose from his death bed. Ha ha ha ha ha ha

Lester's laugh dwindled into an insane chuckle. Pointing a bony claw at the two young men who watched

him, the servant crouched forward and glared with wild eyes. His voice became a guttural croak.

"Bells of doom they have rung again. Do you know what those bells can mean? Bells ring the curfew hour.

They bring people to their homes, away from the night, where evil spirits prowl.

"Then there are bells that drive away those spirits. I know it! I know it! For the old master told me!" The

servant's head was bobbing; his voice had become a discordant shriek. "He told me of those bells! After the

The old servant seemed to shrink. His clenched fists had risen; they lowered. Again a bony finger marked

each word that Lester uttered. His voice was croaking again; his eyes were staring above his pointing finger

"There are bells that drive off sickness," clucked the servant. "They heal, like bells that bring joy. There are

bells that sound out victory; bells that clang like thunder. Some bells ring when coffins are being carried to

The old servant had straightened. His long finger was pointing to the floor. He was gathering himself for his

"Do not forget the passing bell." Shrinking, Lester clasped his hands across his chest. His eyes were cunning

as they looked from man to man. "The passing bell" the croak was solemn "the one that you have heard.

"He heard that bell while he lay dying. He knew that bell meant death. He spoke like a prophet, when he said

that bells of doom would ring again. They rang two nights ago for Maurice Dunwell" Lester spat the name

Lester hissed the second name. He stood silent; then gave a final croak, while he bobbed his head to

"Those bells will ring again! They will ring ring ring until all are dead! Until all are dead" the man's

voice was a shriek "all those who were enemies of this house! Until all of them are dead!"

The spasm ended. Lester gave a cackling chuckle, then turned and shambled from the room, leaving Harry

and Milton staring at each other. Harry could feel cold shivers passing down his spine.

"You see?" questioned Milton, anxiously. "What kind of an alibi could that old fellow give? If he broke loose

with that mad talk, they would put me down as the murderer and class him as an accomplice."

"From my father, I suppose," replied Milton, soberly. "Louis Vandrow gave me a box that my father had left

me. It contained a batch of documents of little consequence. Many of the papers related to bells and their

"But let's get back to the important subject" Milton's suave face was nervous "about my alibi. You've got

Milton Claverly nodded in response to Harry's question. He pointed out through the door by which Lester had

"That old fellow is no fool," he said, in reference to Lester. "Strange factors are at work, Vincent. I am

serious when I say that I fear new crime tonight. Someone else may be murdered."

"Perhaps. He was closely identified with the two who have died. That, Vincent, is why I want someone else

"Yes. Why not come up here, Vincent? Stay in this house instead of the hotel. If the bells should ring again,

Harry pondered. He glanced at his watch. It was after ten o'clock. Harry doubted that he would be able to

communicate with The Shadow. However, he could leave word at the hotel, telling where he had gone.

This house seemed close to crime. Phyllis Lingle's statements; Lester's wild behavior; Milton Claverly's fears

all made the mansion bear a close relationship to the mystery bells of the Torburg tower. Harry did not

need orders from The Shadow. He knew that his chief would instruct him to accept the invitation to remain

"Very well," decided Harry. "I'll go down to the hotel and get my bag. I'll be back in less than half an hour."

Milton Claverly smiled. His face showed relief. Harry Vincent left the library and headed for the front door.

Milton dropped into a chair beside the fireplace. The suavity returned to the young man's features as he

IT was after eleven o'clock when Harry Vincent arrived back at Milton Claverly's house. A car was parked in

the drive. As Harry alighted from his coupe, he saw someone standing by the front door of the house.

The door opened as Harry approached. Lester was admitting the visitor. Carrying his bag, Harry hastened

In the hallway, he recognized the man who had arrived before him. It was Louis Vandrow. The lawyer,

hearing Harry enter, turned and nodded to the young man. He stared, a bit surprised, when he saw the bag in

Milton arrived from the library. He knew that Vandrow and Harry had met before. So he dropped a comment

that would explain the reason for Harry's arrival. Milton made his statement while Harry was handing his bag

"Vincent intends to stay here a while," Milton told Vandrow. "He is tired of the old hotel, so I invited him up

to the house. Come, Mr. Vandrow. Let us go into the library. I had not expected you tonight. Do you have

"No," said the lawyer, "we have gone over all the necessary details regarding the estate. This is a personal

"Then Vincent can listen to what you have to say. He is a friend of mine. Speak freely, Mr. Vandrow."

The lawyer seemed reluctant to proceed after they had seated themselves in the library. Harry's presence

troubled him. It was apparent that Vandrow wanted an open discussion with Milton. The heir recognized that

"Don't worry about Vincent," he assured Vandrow. "I think I know what you are going to tell me. My name

The lawyer stared, startled. Then he nodded. Milton had guessed the reason for his reserve.

"I thought so," said the heir. "Vincent and I have been discussing the matter. After all, it's only natural that

people should wonder about me. The bells began to ring after I arrived in town. The two men who died were

"Precisely," agreed Vandrow. "What is more, those two were closely associated. They were two of three.

"The sheriff is guarding his home," replied Vandrow. "A squad of men have been placed on duty there."

THIS was not news to Harry Vincent. He had learned this fact when he had returned late in the afternoon. It

had been discussed in the hotel; Harry had mentioned it in his report to The Shadow. But Milton Claverly

"So they're guarding Beauchamp," he chuckled. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. But Lester won't be pleased."

"Because he thinks someone's going to get the fellow," returned Milton. "Lester has been walking around all

"Milton," said the attorney, seriously, "matters are much more serious than you suppose. I talked with Abner

"Not exactly," responded Vandrow. "Really, Milton, I feel that Zangwald has a kindly feeling toward you "

"You know my opinion of the man," broke in Milton. "I think he's a hypocrite! But we'll let that pass. Did

"He said," replied Vandrow, slowly, "that as your attorney, I should keep a close watch upon your affairs.

"Has the sheriff put men on duty around this house?" inquired Milton, half jestingly. "Does he think that he

"Men might be stationed here," returned Vandrow, soberly. "I know that Zangwald, as chairman of the board

of selectmen, has had conferences with Sheriff Locke. They are meeting tonight, up at Zangwald's home. I

"I did. To give you advice. Milton, let me suggest that you remain within this house, just as you have on the

"That's exactly what I intend to do. Moreover, Vincent will be here to prove that I do not leave the place."

"Hmmm." Vandrow mused as he heard this statement. "That seems like a good idea. But do not overplay

it, Milton. It isn't wise to establish an alibi in advance. Simply assume that Vincent has come here as a guest.

"That's natural enough," stated Milton. "Don't worry about me, Mr. Vandrow. I'll be a good boy and stay at

home. I'll go to bed early, before twelve o'clock, when the spooks start ringing the bells in the old tower."

"This is no laughing matter," declared the lawyer. "Remember, those bells have sounded the knell of murder."

"They don't concern me," retorted Milton. "Vincent and I are turning in as soon as you leave. Listen, Mr.

Vandrow. I have been in bed every night before those bells began to ring. I intend to follow the same plan

"I don't care to jest about the matter," said Vandrow. He glanced at his watch. "I must be on my way to

Milton beckoned to Harry. The two followed Vandrow from the library. The lawyer crossed the hall to the

VANDROW sat down at the telephone table and called a number. Then he began a conversation, of which

There was another listener, also. Lester had appeared; he was standing by the opened door.

"Hello..." Vandrow began to speak to someone. "Is that you, Mr. Zangwald?... Yes, this is Louis Vandrow.

Yes, I'll be there to talk with you and the sheriff... The coroner, too... Any new developments?... What's that?

"Business in New York, you say... A long distance call early in the evening... Well, I guess that's a good

idea... Yes, that big limousine of Beauchamp's can travel fast. Well, it's best for him to get out of town...

The lawyer hung up the receiver; he arose from the table. Lester entered, bringing his hat and coat. It was

"You mentioned Willis Beauchamp," stated the young man. "Did you say something about him leaving

"Yes," replied Vandrow. "Zangwald tells me that he received a long distance call from New York. He called

"Beauchamp expects to leave just before midnight. He will enter his garage and step into his limousine. Then

his chauffeur will drive him over to Lewisport, on the B R Railroad. Some of the sheriff's men will follow. So

"I'm glad he's getting out of town," decided Milton. "Well, I'm turning in. I guess you'll want to do the same,

Milton accompanied Vandrow to the door. Then he and Harry went upstairs and entered their rooms. The two

Downstairs, Lester was standing by the front door. His eyes were glaring. He, too, had heard the

announcement of Beauchamp's departure. The servant's fists were clenched. His face glowered as his cracked

Then, in methodical fashion, the servant crossed the hall and extinguished the lights. He moved slowly up the

stairs to the second floor; his footsteps creaked as he took another flight of steps to the third.

Harry Vincent, lying in his bed, could hear the old servant moving on the floor above. Then came silence.

THIS night was a gloomy one. The sky, heavily clouded, allowed no rifts for moonlight. Objects on the

ground were blackened into total invisibility. The countryside about the town of Torburg was one continued

Off in a secluded patch of woods stood the old house that Harry Vincent had located. It was not even visible

among the trees. The eyes that watched it were also hidden. The Shadow had stationed himself close to the

The Shadow had pieced important facts. He knew that Willis Beauchamp was well guarded. It would take at

least a squad of men to trap him in his residence. No corps of gunmen could be assembled within the limits of

If called from outside, a crew of ruffians would need a meeting place. This house The Shadow had prowled

through it showed signs of recent occupancy. The Shadow was positive that crooks were due to meet.

Midnight was approaching. Yet The Shadow lingered. Minutes ticked slowly by. Finally, a glimmer of light

wavered from the road in front of the house. It became the glare of headlights. A car approached, jouncing

The Shadow waited until the lights were extinguished. Then he crept forward. He found a shuttered window

and opened it. He rose from the ground and entered an empty room. He moved across to a door and pressed

A glow showed through the crack. Four men were gathered about the adjoining room, a kerosene lantern on

the floor. They were talking in growled voices. The Shadow recognized them as a group of Manhattan

"Say," came a gruff tone, "this is a cuckoo lay. What's Beef been doin', using this joint as a hideout?"

"Fat chance," said the first mobster. "He won't say nothin'. D'you think he's been hangin' out here alone?"

"Well, Beef ain't no big shot. You know well enough that he must be workin' for some guy that's runnin' the

"All right. That's none of our business. Beef was wise, keepin' us a long way off until he came for us today."

There was a pause in the conversation. The Shadow knew now why the house had been deserted when he had

first arrived. But where was "Beef," the head of this assembled crew? The answer came from a mobsman's

"Beef kept on ahead in the coupe," said another ruffian, speaking for the first time. "Guess he had to go

somewhere and get a tipoff from the big shot. Well he ought to be back pretty quick."

Another pause; then, from outside the house came the rumble of a motor. The noise ceased. A door clattered.

Into the room stepped a husky, bigfisted man whose ruddy face added to his beefy appearance. This was the

"All set," growled Beef. "Come along, get going. We'll take the touring car. Leave the coupe here."

"You'll find out," returned the leader. "I'll tell you on the way. Listen, you mugs, we're pinchhitting tonight,

THE SHADOW made no move until they had departed. Then he crossed the room and reached the door that

the crew had taken. He saw the lights flash from the touring car. He heard the starter. The machine swung

The Shadow's flashlight glimmered. It picked out Beef's coupe, standing near where the touring car had been.

Swiftly, The Shadow reached the car. A soft laugh came from his lips when he saw that the ignition key was

in its lock. The Shadow had expected this. Beef would have had no reason to lock the car. The fact that the

key was present meant a saving in time; it eliminated the few minutes that The Shadow would otherwise have

The coupe shot forward. Lights out, it found the rocky road. The Shadow piloted the car by the feel of the

front tires. Up along the road, he spied the glimmer of Beef's headlights. That was sufficient. Guiding by that

The touring car swerved when it came to a highway. The Shadow arrived shortly afterward. The coupe sped

amazingly along the road, closing the distance between the two cars. Like a phantom automobile, The

Shadow's machine was hidden in the dark behind the touring car; the sound of its motor was unheard by the

Close enough to use the glow of the touring car's headlights; far enough behind to keep his presence

unknown, The Shadow kept up the equal pace. He watched the touring car slacken as it neared a curve. He

The lights of the touring car were no longer visible. The Shadow learned this by peering through a cluster of

saplings on the inner side of the road. A soft laugh came from within the coupe. The Shadow knew the

The touring car had stopped to block the curve. It was awaiting the approach of a car from the other direction.

The Shadow stopped the coupe and listened. He caught the murmur of a smoothrunning motor; then, barely

There was no time to lose. The Shadow shot the coupe forward. Still without lights, he took the curve. Then,

from ahead, came the glare of focused headlights. An instant later, the blaze was blocked by the shape of the

Revolvers barked from the touring car. Shots were aimed at a big machine that was coming along the road.

Then came the shriek of brakes. The chauffeur of a huge limousine was bringing his car to a stop.

He was in time to avert a collision; but his natural action brought another menace. By stopping, he was

making his car a perfect target for the five mobsters who had opened fire with their revolvers.

Doom for the chauffeur and whomever might be riding with him. Such seemed the natural decree.

But The Shadow could turn the hand of fate. His foot pressed the accelerator to the floor. As new shots

flashed from the touring car, the darkened coupe came hurtling from the night, aimed squarely for the center

BEFORE a single gorilla knew what was coming, the coupe reached its goal. It mashed the side of the touring

car with terrific force. While wild shots blazed, the parked machine careened from its position. It hurtled over

on its side; then turned turtle. The top collapsed as gorillas went sprawling upon the road and in the ditch.

The front of the coupe rose upward as The Shadow jammed the brakes and clicked off the ignition. Radiator

was driven back to motor. The Shadow's left arm warded off the glass that crashed in from the windshield.

Spokes broke from front wheels as the car came down. The coupe jounced upon its front axle. The car swiped

sidewise; a rear wheel gave beneath the strain. Popping tires sounded as the coupe stopped at a crazy angle.

The limousine had stopped, half across the road. From behind it, came a following car a sedan filled with

men. The driver swerved to avoid the limousine. He made another sweep as he applied the brakes; then

released the pedal to come out of a skid. The sedan shot clear past the tilted coupe.

The chauffeur had leaped from the limousine. Foolishly, he sprang forward into the lights of the car. A

revolver barked. One mobster, only slightly injured by the crash, had fired. The chauffeur staggered; then fell

The door on the lower side of the tilted coupe had opened. The Shadow, dropping to the road, moved quickly

to the right, to avoid the lights of the limousine. His automatic was ready. He did not have to use it.

Men had clambered from the sedan that had swung beyond the wreckage. As the mobster fired a wild shot

The Shadow, coming up to the side of the limousine, had quickly guessed the facts. He knew that this car

must belong to Willis Beauchamp. Beef and his crew had come to stop it. The sedan was filled with sheriff's

Was Willis Beauchamp in the car? Or had this flight from Torburg been a bluff? These developments were

factors that had come about while The Shadow had been watching the house in the woods. The Shadow

The sheriff's men had stopped beside the wrecked cars. They were examining the bodies of the mobsters who

had failed to survive the crash. Two of the officers were picking up the chauffeur.

The limousine was unscathed. The Shadow opened the door. His flashlight glimmered, in guarded fashion.

The Shadow expected to find emptiness, or else a cowering man in back. He paused at the sight that actually

Slumped on the tonneau was the figure of a tall, elderly man. His hat had fallen from his head, revealing his

shaggy mop of gray hair. His coat was open. The center of his shirtfront showed a dripping stain of carmine.

LIKE Dunwell and Hosker, Beauchamp had been shot through the heart. Beef had spoken the truth to his

mob. Their purpose had been to make sure that the victim died. But their foray had been unnecessary.

The door closed silently. The Shadow glided into the darkness behind the limousine, just as two men arrived

to make sure that Beauchamp was all right. Excited shouts arose as the sheriff's men discovered the dead

Those shouts reached The Shadow's cars as his tall form was gliding up along the slope beside the road. But

The Shadow did not pause. His course was taking him off across the hill, toward the distant belltower

TWO men were standing in Abner Zangwald's living room. Both were officials of the county. One was

Sheriff Locke; the other was Coroner Thomas. The two were eying the clock upon the mantel. It was nearing

The doorbell rang. A servant answered it. He returned, conducting Louis Vandrow into the room. The lawyer

looked about, expecting to see Zangwald. The sheriff pointed his thumb toward the ceiling.

"Mr. Zangwald went upstairs to his study," informed Locke. "just after you called up from Claverly's. He told

the servant to let him know when you arrived. I guess the man's gone to get him."

"Sorry I was late," replied Vandrow. "I thought it important, however, to talk to young Claverly. That was in

"While we are waiting for Zangwald," suggested Vandrow, "tell me about Beauchamp. Why did he decide to

"I don't know," admitted the sheriff. "He called Zangwald, because he couldn't get me. Said something about

a long distance call, but it sounded like a stall. Zangwald got hold of me and I gave the O.K. If Beauchamp

"I came by his house on my way here," said Vandrow, "but I didn't notice anything unusual. Has he gone

"Yes. Here was his idea. You know where his garage is off from the house, about fifty yards in back."

"That's right. Well, Beauchamp sneaked out there through the back door at eleventhirty. Got into his

limousine. Then the chauffeur went out about five minutes later. Only, that time, they turned on the lights at

"Get the idea? So if anybody was watching, they'd think the chauffeur was going alone. He was instructed to

bring out the car just as if it was empty. Then he started over to Lewisport, like he was going to meet

"Yes, lying low. He explained to Zangwald that he intended to make a getaway; he told me the details when

"Like clockwork. The chauffeur was sitting, up in front like a tin soldier. A couple of the boys called me from

Beauchamp's. The rest were in a car out front. They followed along, after the limousine, but not too close.

As the sheriff completed his statement, Abner Zangwald appeared. The bushybrowed man nodded to Louis

"I talked to young Milton," replied the lawyer. "I questioned him a bit regarding the last two nights. He said

"What's this about?" put in the sheriff. "Are you figuring young Claverly in these murders?"

"Not exactly," returned Zangwald. "At the meeting the other night, I happened to talk with Vandrow. I

mentioned that it was quite a coincidence that Maurice Dunwell should have been murdered just after Milton

"I made no accusation. I simply said that Dunwell was one of three men who had been unfriendly to David

Claverly. Therefore, Milton, as David's son, could hardly be saddened by Dunwell's death.

"After the murder of Stuart Hosker, I studied the subject more deeply. I was really worried. As chairman of

the selectmen, I hold a responsible position in this town. Today, when I learned that Willis Beauchamp was

in terror of his life, I felt that it would be wise to keep an eye on Milton Claverly."

"What do you think of it, coroner?" questioned Locke, turning to the man beside him.

"Maurice Dunwell," he said, "was slain by persons unknown. So was Stuart Hosker. I see no evidence that

points to Milton Claverly. Until we have a definite connection, it would be unwise to regard him with actual

"Looks that way to me," added Locke, in a grumbling tone. "I want evidence to work on before I begin

accusing people. We've got none. Not yet. That is, nothing that can lead us to the guilty party."

"Understand me," put in Zangwald. "David Claverly was my closest friend. I have a feeling of good will

toward his son. I thought that Louis Vandrow was the proper man as Milton's lawyer to look into what

"We can not deny the fact that Milton might have been antagonistic toward both Dunwell and Hosker. That

means that later on his name may be drawn into these cases. Therefore, whether he is right or wrong, it is

"I guess you're right, Mr. Zangwald," expressed the sheriff. "I'll tell you why. If young Claverly had it in for

Dunwell and Hosker, he'd probably be sore at Beauchamp, too. I guess that's why Beauchamp thought he

"Beauchamp was associated with Dunwell and Hosker," stated Vandrow. "That was sufficient reason for his

"Well," said Locke, "one thing's sure. If Torburg is the danger zone, Beauchamp's out of it. Nobody knows

LOUIS VANDROW chewed his lips as he heard the remark. Abner Zangwald noted the action. He glared at

"How about that, Vandrow?" he inquired. "You were over at Claverly's when you called up here, weren't

"Did young Claverly hear what you had to say?" asked Zangwald. "Did he get wind of the fact that

"I mentioned it," replied Vandrow. "Milton was in the room when I was talking. He asked me about

"No Lester, the old servant. And a friend of Milton's. A real estate man from New York, Harry Vincent."

"I know the fellow. He came in to see me about real estate. He was the one who went with you up to

"I'm not," declared Zangwald, dryly. "I'm thinking about young Claverly. It's too bad that he learned about

"Let us refrain from apprehensions," put in Vandrow. "As the sheriff has said, Beauchamp is outside the

There was a pause. A huge grandfather's clock delivered its musical chimes. Midnight had arrived. Twelve

"You spoke of the danger zone," he declared. "This, gentlemen, is the danger hour. If harm has come to

Willis Beauchamp, the bells of doom will peal. Let us hope that they will not ring tonight."

"I've been waiting to tell you this," chortled the sheriff. "Just a little idea I had this afternoon. You know that

"Well, I went up to the tower this evening. Thought I might put a couple of men on duty; but I didn't want to

Locke paused to lift a heavy traveling bag from the floor. He placed it on the table and undid the clasps. He

He revealed the contents of the bag. Within lay three brazen clappers. The sheriff removed them, one by one,

"Unhooked them," he said. "That fixed the bells. I don't care who gets in there and yanks the ropes. Those

Again, Locke chuckled as he stared at the surprised expressions on the faces of his three companions. Still

laughing, he placed his hands on the heavy clappers. Then, in an instant, his lips became rigid. A

A muffled throb from far away. A note that all had heard before. It was the opening stroke of a deepthroated

Once again, the tower bells were tolling forth their mournful dirge. New notes of doom were reaching the

ears of astounded listeners. Here, beneath the sheriff's hand, were the clappers of the tower bells. Yet the

Tone for tone, perfect in the spacing of their chiming, the bells in the tower were pealing forth their

The strident clamor drummed its clashing message to Harry Vincent, half asleep in his bed at Claverly's. The

bells of doom were like a nightmare, weaving their jangle into Harry's dreaming mind.

Harry raised his head. A breeze from the halfopened window was almost tingling with the final

reverberations of those concluded strokes. Harry could actually feel the sound of the bells.

Hurrying into some clothes, Harry stumbled from the room. He wanted to find Milton Claverly. Groping his

way through the darkened hall, he reached the top of the stairs. He saw a dull light from below. Harry

All was silent when Harry reached the lower hall. Calculating, Harry felt sure that others must have heard the

bells before him. Someone must have come downstairs to turn on that light. Looking through a darkened

stretch of hall, Harry spied the outline of the side door. He went to the portal and turned the knob.

The door was unlocked. It swung inward, aided by a gust of air. Harry stepped out into the blackness of a rear

drive. The night was pitchdark; he could not even see the grayish gravel that crunched beneath his feet.

Wondering why the door was open, Harry paused to listen. He tried to calculate the time that had passed

between the ending of the bells and his arrival here. Harry found himself at a loss. It might have been three

Time for someone to have come back from the old belltower? The thought was startling. It was almost like a

premonition. Promptly upon the thought, Harry heard a sound. It was the slight crunch of gravel, at the far

Barely discernible was a low wing that extended back from the house. This was the addition that housed the

sealed crypt which had served as temporary resting place for the body of David Claverly.

Creeping in that direction, Harry pressed his hand against the stone surface of the low wall. He edged through

darkness toward the spot where he had heard the crunches. He stopped. Like echoes, other crackles replied

Harry shifted forward. Again the crunches. They were closer. Was someone creeping back to the house? Or

had someone, sneaking away, reversed his course? Hearing another click, Harry sprang suddenly forward. He

was leaping for the person in the darkness, whoever he might be. Harry's guess was perfect. His

AN instant later, Harry was struggling with an adversary. The man was powerful. As Harry locked with his

opponent, he realized that the man might be Milton. Harry cried out as he wrestled:

The response was a fiercer struggle. An arm wrenched from Harry's grasp. A swift fist shot through the dark.

It clipped The Shadow's agent squarely on the jaw. The other arm came free as Harry slumped. Groggily, he

Darkness seemed to whirl as Harry heard quick crunching steps. He came up to his hands and knees, ready to

resume the fight. His head was spinning; he could hear the footsteps dwindle. But he could not guess in what

One minute passed; dully, Harry sensed that slow footsteps were coming in his direction. He roused himself;

he turned about and saw framed light. The side door of the house was open. A stooped figure was coming

Harry tried to rise. Lester caught him; with surprising strength, the man helped Harry to his feet. The

"I encountered someone out here," explained Harry. "I came out through the side door after the bells rang

A call came from the opened door. Milton Claverly was standing there, in his shirtsleeves. He stepped into

the dark; his white garb showed in the blackness. Stepping away from Lester, Harry approached the house.

"What's the matter, Vincent?" inquired Milton. "Come back into the house, and let me know what happened."

As the two men went inside. Lester stood crouched in the center of the drive. The servant was listening.

Suddenly, the servant turned on his flashlight. He swept it in a wide beam, along the fringe of the drive. It

passed the wall of the silent crypt. It probed among the trees; there it stopped. A guttural sound came from

By a freak of chance, the servant's light had picked the outline of an approaching shape. Coming through the

trees, stopping the instant that the light appeared upon it, was a phantom form cloaked in black.

The Shadow had swung in from his course across the hill. He had heard the talk in the driveway. He had

recognized Harry Vincent's voice. Creeping forward, he had been caught suddenly within the range of

BURNING eyes. The servant saw them glitter from beneath the brim of the slouch hat. They were unearthly

Lester dropped back as he heard the eerie taunt. It was meant for the servant's ears alone. It served its

purpose. Lester's light wavered as the man's hand faltered. Dropping toward the ground, it no longer covered

There was a swish through the shrouding gloom. Lester did not hear it. The Shadow had lost no opportunity.

Recovering from his fright, the servant raised the flashlight. This time its rays showed nothing but the trees.

Retreating toward the house, Lester kept sweeping his torch. It failed to reveal a new glimpse of The Shadow.

Then Lester sprang inside and slammed the barrier behind him. Bolts shot into place.

When he reached the hall inside the house, Lester turned suddenly as he heard a voice from the stairs. It was

Phyllis Lingle. Clad in slippers and dressing gown, the girl had come from her room. She questioned Lester

"What has happened?" inquired Phyllis. "Tell me, Lester; what happened outside?"

"Mr. Vincent encountered a prowler," croaked Lester. "But he is all right, Miss Phyllis. I can hear him talking

Phyllis hurried down the stairs. She joined Lester and the two entered the library. They found Harry Vincent

standing before the fireplace, rubbing his jaw. Milton Claverly was seated close by, smoking a cigarette.

"Lester," snapped Milton, "Vincent tells me that the little door was open. You should have bolted it before

"I thought I did, sir," responded the servant. "Really, it is something that I should not have forgotten."

"Vincent heard the bells," declared Milton. "He was the first of us to get downstairs. Finding the door open,

"I was upstairs," stated Milton, promptly, "getting dressed. I couldn't find my coat and vest so I came down in

my shirtsleeves. There wasn't time to go fumbling about in the closet, looking for the right hanger."

"I must have come down ahead of you, sir," said Lester. "I was sound asleep on the third floor. Then I heard

"Cut it, Lester," interrupted Milton, sternly. "This is no time for more of your madness. What I want to know

Phyllis Lingle uttered a suppressed gasp. Harry Vincent was the only one who heard it. He looked quickly

toward the girl. Her face was pale. Phyllis tried to cover up her sudden outburst. Lester came unwittingly to

"I can tell you, sir. he croaked. "I can tell you who was outside this house. It was a spirit, sir a ghoul from

The old servant's chortle was maddening. Yet even the wildness of Lester's eyes did not detract from the

force of his words. Milton Claverly stared. He seemed to half believe Lester's words. Then Milton laughed,

"Seeing spooks, eh?" he quizzed. "Forget that stuff, Lester. It will drive you crazy."

"Black, with burning eyes! Coals of fire, sir, that looked at me. It came from the tower" the servant pointed

his finger upward and wagged his bony hand "it came to prove that my old master's words were true!"

"Enough of that!" broke in Milton. "Keep quiet, Lester. Now I know that your wild imagination has gained

HARRY VINCENT was thinking. He had seen enough of Lester to know that the servant was fundamentally

sane. Lester had seen someone outside the house; but not the person with whom Harry had battled. Harry's

Who had been the man in the dark? Harry's foe could have been Milton Claverly. For that matter, Lester the

servant had unusual strength might have been the fighter who had dealt the lucky blow to Harry's jaw.

Both Milton and Lester were dressed. Harry had no proof that either man had gone to bed. One or the other

could have been coming back from the tower. It was quite possible that the guilty party could have gone into

Recollecting, Harry realized that he had been completely staggered by the punch. It had been the equivalent

of a knockout blow. A minute no, at least two minutes had elapsed before Lester arrived to give aid.

Harry's thoughts changed. He came to a consideration of The Shadow. He knew that it was not his chief

whom he had encountered; The Shadow would have recognized Harry's cry in the dark. But The Shadow was

Milton spoke to the servant, to ask him where he was going. Lester responded that he intended to make sure

The two left. Harry was musing. Then came a soft voice. Phyllis Lingle was approaching. The girl spoke

"I heard the scuffle, Mr. Vincent," she said. "I knew that you had met someone in the dark."

"No," replied Phyllis. "It was too dark to see from my window. But there is something that I must tell you

She stopped and drew away. Milton and Lester were returning. Harry saw the girl's lips frame the word:

Harry gave a slight nod and turned away. Milton noted nothing. He paced over toward the fireplace, stood

"Guess we'd better turn in," was his comment. "There's no use looking for the chap you bumped into,

Vincent. After the way Vandrow talked, I don't like the idea of going outside the house after dark.

"We would look mighty suspicious wandering about with flashlights. For that matter, it wouldn't be so good

if anyone dropped in on us while we're in this room. I suggest we go back to bed and talk things over in the

MILTON'S suggestion was followed. Five minutes later, Harry Vincent was seated in his own room. He had

turned on a single light, a little lamp above a table in the comer. But Harry had not gone back to bed.

He was seated at the table, writing with a fountain pen that he had taken from the pocket of his vest. Briefly,

in coded words, Harry was giving the full details of all that had occurred. Trained in The Shadow's service,

His departure from the hotel, his chat with Milton Claverly; his return and the remarks that Vandrow had

made all these went into the report. Then came Harry's description of his experience after the bells had

clanged. Most important to Harry's mind were the interrupted conversations that he had held with Phyllis

Harry folded each sheet as he completed it. He placed the entire report in an envelope. He sealed the

container; then went to bed. But he left the table lamp burning, That was a signal to The Shadow.

Time passed. Night breezes sighed about the mansion. From the thick, outer darkness, keen eyes studied the

silent house. They spied the only glimmer of light, the dull glow from the window of Harry's room. A

Shortly afterward, the figure of The Shadow appeared through the open window. It materialized in weird

fashion. The only person who might have seen that forming shape was Harry Vincent; but he had gone to

Gloved hands opened the envelope. The Shadow read the coded lines. The writing faded, line by line, as he

completed his perusal. Such was the way with messages between The Shadow and his aides. They used a

The Shadow wrote brief lines. He sealed them in an envelope and left the message where he had found

Harry's report. Silently, the tall shape merged with the darkness beyond the window. The Shadow had gone.

Later, a sardonic laugh rippled from a spot along the hillside, not far from where the old belltower stood.

ON the next afternoon, a group of men were assembled in the meeting room at the Torburg town hall. Sheriff

Locke and Coroner Thomas were there; also the deputies whom Locke had placed as guards at Beauchamp's

Besides these representatives of the law, another was present. This was Galt Jornal, the county prosecutor.

Jornal had come to Torburg to make a complete investigation of the latest murder. He had summoned all who

might furnish clues to the death of Willis Beauchamp. In addition, Jornal had requested the presence of Abner

Zangwald, to represent the board of selectmen. Zangwald, in turn, had invited Louis Vandrow to the

The county prosecutor was a bluff individual. He liked to get results; and he believed that slipshod methods

had permitted crime in Torburg. When he called the conference to order, his first act was to read over reports

that he had received from the sheriff and the coroner. That done, Jornal came down to business.

"We'll center on the case of Willis Beauchamp," declared the prosecutor. "First off, Beauchamp was afraid

for his life. Reason: because he had been closely associated with the two men who were slain. That's clear

"Beauchamp wanted a guard around his place. He got it. But he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to clear out, to go

to New York. Maybe he thought he'd be safer there. Anyway, he stated as his reason that he had received a

"Yes," replied Zangwald. "Beauchamp called me and said that he wanted to leave for New York. He

"He talked to me afterward," corroborated Locke. "Told me just what he'd told Mr. Zangwald. It was over the

"Very well." The prosecutor became emphatic. "Let's continue that matter further. Who was it that called

Beauchamp from New York? You don't know, do you? You don't even know whether or not he really

received a call from New York. You can't prove that he received any calls at his home, can you?"

"Granted," was Jornal's retort, "but we're dealing in facts not suppositions. All we actually do know is that

you, Zangwald, talked with Beauchamp by your own testimony. And that Locke here talked with him later.

By Locke's testimony and yours, Zangwald, because you were present when Locke called Beauchamp."

"Somebody called Beauchamp," put in one of the deputies. "I know because I was on guard at the side of

"I didn't call Beauchamp," returned the bushybrowed man. "He called me. Look at the report sheet, Mr.

"About nine o'clock," remarked Jornal. "That's the time you heard the phone bell ring. Did you hear it later?

"No," returned the deputy, "but I wasn't at the side of the house much after nine o'clock. We were kind of

"I see. Did anyone else hear a telephone bell ring from inside Beauchamp's house?"

"Hmmm," mused Jornal. "Well, it looks like Beauchamp got a call from somewhere. But maybe it wasn't

"Why so?" questioned Zangwald, in his rumble. "It appears to me that the matter of the telephone call is

"We want to know the exact reason why Beauchamp acted the way he did" explained Jornal. "Maybe it was a

freak idea of his own. But maybe" the prosecutor paused emphatically "maybe somebody called him up

THIS came as a new theory. The looks that the listeners exchanged were proof that they saw the point that

Jornal had presented. Before anyone else spoke the prosecutor added another comment.

"It might have worked either way," he asserted. "Some friend might have doublecrossed Beauchamp.

Talked about him getting out of town. Suggested ways and means. On the other hand an enemy could have

called him. Threatened him. Ordered him to get out of town or die. That would have worked."

"A few moments ago," put in Zangwald casually, "you said that we should deal in facts not in suppositions.

"I'll talk facts" retorted the prosecutor angrily. "I'll tell you what I think about Beauchamp's death. I'll tell you

that the people in this town are dunderheads to let crime happen right under their noses!

"Three men have been murdered. All by one killer. Don't shout 'supposition' at me this time. The cases are

too much alike. You can't dodge that fact. Dunwell's death was excusable. Nobody knew it was coming.

Hosker's was something that shouldn't have happened. Locke should have guarded the man.

"But Beauchamp well, letting him get killed was the biggest blunder ever pulled in this county! He was

safe in his house. He shouldn't have been allowed to get out. Nevertheless, Beauchamp is dead. What I'm

The prosecutor paused to cough. He stood up and crinkled the report sheets between his hands. Then in the

"There's only one place where the murder could have occurred. That was in the garage. The killer got there

ahead of Beauchamp laid for him in the limousine shot him. That shows we're dealing with a mighty bold

"We weren't near the garage," objected a deputy. "We stayed away from it, on purpose."

"Sure," put in another, "and those doors are thick. They slide together so close you couldn't get a razor blade

between 'em. If Beauchamp was shot in the garage, it ain't no wonder we didn't hear it."

"That will be enough," rebuked the prosecutor. "I see by reports that Beauchamp's chauffeur did not turn on

the lights in the garage. Apparently, he did not realize that murder had been done before his arrival. He drove

"Then why," questioned Zangwald, "was a car blockading the road to Lewisport? Why did the deputies find

dying men who looked like mobsters? They were certainly posted there to make trouble for Beauchamp."

"I agree with that," said the prosecutor. "Furthermore, the reason for the mobsters is easily explained. Either

the murderer feared that he would fail to gain the opportunity of murdering Beauchamp in the garage; or he

wanted to cover up his work by making it appear that Beauchamp had been slain later, on the road."

THE prosecutor had spoken in logical fashion. His words brought nods from coroner and sheriff. Vandrow

appeared speculative; while Zangwald looked somewhat doubtful. Finally the lawyer registered his

"Unfortunately," declared Jornal, "Beauchamp's chauffeur was killed by the mobsters. None of that crowd

remains. As luck had it, a coupe smashed into their touring car and overturned it. I see that you have not

located the driver of the coupe. That is not an important point. The man probably left the scene, fearing that

he would be arrested. However, he should be commended for smashing into a carload of crooks.

"Our problem is to find the murderer. He is a man of nerve. He shows no half measures in his crimes. He has

The prosecutor paused. He turned to Locke and told the sheriff to dismiss the deputies. The men filed from

the room. Jornal remained with Locke and Thomas. He also motioned Zangwald and Vandrow to stay.

"We can now discuss the matter of the belltower," announced the prosecutor. "It has figured strangely in

these deaths. It appears to have a connection with the murders. It makes the crimes look like the work of a

"That tower's got me licked," put in the sheriff. "Wait'll I tell you about it, prosecutor. The first time those

bells rang, I didn't go up there until a while after. I found the door locked. Nothing wrong. That was the time

"When Hosker was murdered, we didn't find out about the crime until the next day. But we heard the bells

ring and we got up there not long after. I had the key to the tower I'd gotten it from Absalom Yokes. But I

"So did I," observed Abner Zangwald. "You told the coroner that you had searched the tower."

"Sure I searched it," said the sheriff. "But I didn't have to unlock it to get in. Well I locked it up afterward. I

"So instead," broke in the prosecutor, "you removed the clappers. That is in your report. You also say that

you visited the tower last night after the news came in that Beauchamp was killed in his limousine."

"Yes," said the sheriff. "I sure was stumped when I heard the bells ring without their clappers. Mr. Zangwald

here can tell you that. I was over at his place. I was going to hotfoot it to the tower; but before I got started,

The sheriff looked at the coroner, who nodded. Evidently the two had cooked up a theory for the prosecutor's

"SOMEBODY got in the tower," asserted the sheriff. "He must have been smart, for he had new clappers

"No. Because the man that put them there was smart enough to take them out again."

The prosecutor scowled. The theory did not appeal to him. Nor did Zangwald approve. The bushybrowed

"More supposition," he asserted. "Well, well! We are dealing with a very thoroughgoing murderer. One who

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the sheriff. "Maybe the fellow was watching the tower. He might have seen me

"It's more than that," added the sheriff. "It's the only answer. Because if nobody put clappers in those bells,

The prosecutor pondered. This was a question that he could not answer. Neither Zangwald nor Vandrow

"A good point," decided the prosecutor, after a pause. "One that balks us. Gentlemen, we are confronted by a

mystery of the most insidious sort. Our one consolation is the fact that the reign of terror is ended."

"Yes," decided Jornal. "There were only three in the group that has been slain. Dunwell, Hosker and

Beauchamp. All are dead. Our job is not to prevent new crime. It is to solve the riddles that the past presents."

There was an uneasy silence. Abner Zangwald was on the point of speaking. Louis Vandrow rubbed his chin

"The first question," said the prosecutor, slowly, "is whether we are dealing with one man or two."

"One man," he said, "could have killed each of those three victims. After that, he could have gone to the

"No, he couldn't!" exclaimed the sheriff. "He'd have had to work too quickly after killing Beauchamp. He had

"Let us not be hasty," warned Jornal. "We know that the murderer had accomplices. The mobsters on the road

were specimens. The actual killings, coupled with the bell ringing, may have been a oneman job. On the

other hand, they may have been the timed actions of two persons, working together.

"Suppose that we give this matter further thought. Get our minds to work. Be ready with our individual

theories. Perhaps some of you may know of possible suspects. If you do, name them,"

Zangwald was about to speak. The prosecutor raised his hand. Jornal had not yet finished.

"We can meet tonight," he declared. "Then we can talk at length, without undue haste. Where shall we

"Put them up at the belltower," retorted Jornal, in a testy tone. "Watch the stable now that the horse is gone.

With that, the prosecutor arose to end the meeting. Men filed forth into the afternoon air. Their serious faces

showed that they were pondering upon Jornal's words. Locke and Thomas; Vandrow and Zangwald; all were

DINNER had ended at Claverly's. The meal had been served early; and it had proven a gloomy affair. Milton

was in a solemn frame of mind; he had maintained it all day, ever since the news of Beauchamp's death.

Lester, creeping about the dining room as he served the food, was wearing a perpetual smirk. The old servant

was silent because his master had ordered him to be. But he made no secret of the joy that he felt, now that

Harry Vincent was restless; Phyllis Lingle was strained and worried. They had gained no opportunity to talk.

Harry knew that the girl must have some news of importance. He wanted to learn it; to get word to The

With dinner over, all had retired to the library, with the exception of Lester. A ring at the front door brought

the servant into the hall from the dining room. Lester answered the call and admitted Louis Vandrow. He

Something in Vandrow's look told Milton that his attorney wanted a conference. In challenging fashion, the

"Whatever you have to say," snapped Milton, "can be spoken in the presence of all who are here. I suppose

"I have," returned Vandrow, mildly. "I hope, Milton, that you followed my advice."

"Yes." The Shadow's agent tried to conceal the reluctance of his reply. "I can not state that Milton Claverly

"You can account exactly for what happened after the bells rang in the old tower?"

Vandrow's question was an anxious one. It came as an interruption; and it brought a jolt to Harry Vincent.

"That is important, Vincent," added Vandrow. "I fear that Milton may be called upon to account for his

activities. I must be sure that they can be substantiated. Any questioning will boil down to a definite analysis

Harry could feel Milton's eyes upon him. He knew that the heir was depending upon his support. Lester was

standing by the door, watching. Both knew that Harry could not give a true statement of Milton's actions

Harry glanced toward Milton. He saw a tinge of apprehension on the young man's face. He knew that Milton

Lester was staring, his eyes wide open. The servant wore a significant leer. Vandrow was impatiently

"I FEEL positive," declared Harry, slowly, "that I can give a satisfactory account of Milton Claverly's

whereabouts at the time the bells rang last night. Does that please you, Mr. Vandrow?"

"It does." The lawyer nodded in relieved fashion. "I am glad" this was to Milton "that you had this

capable witness present in the house. Milton" the attorney paused, his features serious "there is to be a

"Very directly," replied Vandrow. "The sheriff will be there; the coroner also. I am attending. At that time,

various theories will be presented concerning the deaths of Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp.

"The prosecutor appears determined to follow any lead to the limit. He is angry because so little has been

accomplished. He believes that the ringing of the bells is connected with the deaths. He is looking for any

"Frankly, you are. Those three swindled your father. You have suffered because of their activities. Your

heritage was lessened. Once your name is mentioned tonight, the prosecutor will demand that you be

Milton's tone was cold. The young man was facing Vandrow squarely. His moroseness had vanished. Milton

"Not I, Milton," responded the lawyer. "As your attorney, as your friend, it is my part to keep you free from

"I ask you again" Milton's tone was a demand "to name the person who will mention me."

"Because he was about to mention your name this afternoon, while talking with the prosecutor in the town

"No!" Milton blurted the interruption. "You are wrong, Vandrow! I shall tell you the reason why Zangwald

will bring up my name. He is a hypocrite! He pretended to be my father's friend. He laid aside the mask after

"Tell Zangwald this for me. Tell him that I detest him. Tell him that I feel no more than contempt for

Dunwell. For Hosker. For Beauchamp. Tell him that the only man in Torburg whose sudden death would

THE young man paused with clenched fists. Vandrow stood aghast. He looked toward Harry; toward Phyllis.

He stared to see Lester framed in the door. Besides Vandrow, there were three other witnesses of Milton's

"This is bad," declared the lawyer, solemnly. "Calm yourself, Milton. This is no time to lose your temper. I

am sorry that you have spoken in so violent a manner. I have come here as your friend, to tell you that you

"It is possible that the prosecutor may come here tonight. With others, to question you. What you have just

said is a threat. A serious threat. One that I shall not repeat; and one that I advise you to forget."

Milton had no comment. Vandrow looked about toward the other persons; then concentrated his gaze upon

"Milton," declared the lawyer, "I am sincere when I say that your entire future rests upon your own

discretion. Be prepared for visitors tonight. Curb your temper while you await their arrival. My advice must

"When the ring of the doorbell announces that the visitors have come, have Vincent and Phyllis upstairs.

Lester also. Answer the door yourself. Be affable. Answer questions frankly and quietly.

"If corroboration of your testimony is needed, we can call Vincent. He may be the only person required.

Perhaps Phyllis may be called upon; Lester will be ignored if possible. Come, Milton. Promise me your

Vandrow clapped his hand upon Milton's shoulder. He drew the young man toward the door, talking in a

friendly tone as they walked along. Lester preceded them. The lawyer's manner was having its effect upon

Harry looked toward Phyllis. The girl approached and began to speak. This was the opportunity that had

"LAST night," whispered the girl, "I heard someone outside the house. Prowling, there after those terrible

"The man who fought with you. But it was not the first time that he came here. I heard him twice before. On

"The low extension from the house. He disappeared while I watched. I did not see his face."

"He he was about Milton's height. But he was stooping, like Lester. I could not tell whether he was going

from the house or coming here. That was because he moved out of sight at the end of the crypt."

"Yes. An outside door; and an inner door that connects with the cellar. But both are locked. The keys were

supposedly destroyed. It would be impossible for anyone to open either door without a key."

"I do not know what to believe." The girl quivered. "I have had terrible, dreadful thoughts! I have realized

that if someone held those keys, he could go in and out of this house by passing through the crypt "

The girl stopped. Milton was returning, followed by Lester. There had been a brief conference at the front

"I guess the quiz is coming," asserted Milton. "When it does, I'll have to bluff it out alone for a starter. If

you're still up when those people come here, Vincent, I'll have to ask you to go upstairs."

"I'll be ready when you give the word. By the way, Milton, I've got to phone the hotel. All right if I do it

Harry went from the library. He crossed the hall, entered the parlor and closed the door behind him. Instead

of calling the hotel, however, he gave another number. It was one that he had memorized from the

A quiet voice responded. Harry announced his identity. A responding whisper assured him that The Shadow

was at the other end of the wire. Quickly, Harry told of Vandrow's visit. Then he added an account of his

The call ended, Harry went from the parlor. From the hallway, he saw Phyllis ascending the stairs. He called

a cheery goodnight, then continued into the library to find Milton pacing back and forth across the floor.

Brief silence followed in the hallway that Harry had just passed. Then, from a niche outside the parlor door,

Lester stepped forth. The servant's eyes glittered in suspicion. His lips formed a fierce leer.

Lester had been eavesdropping. Outside the door, he had caught brief snatches of Harry's conversation. He

had stepped from view when Phyllis had appeared. He had remained out of sight until Harry had crossed the

Catlike, the old servant moved into the darkness of the dining room. His lips were twitching. Whispered

epithets came incoherently. They told that some plan was forming in the stooped man's mind.

Bells of doom had tolled the deaths of three. Terror, presumably, had ended its reign in Torburg. Yet this

night was already as ominous as the three that had preceded it. A menace lay above the town; the danger

Milton was steeling himself for an ordeal. Harry was ready for whatever might come. Now, Lester, by his

actions was giving proof that he, too, would figure in the events that were drawing nigh.

A SHADED lamp was glowing. Hands moved beneath it. Quartered in the neighborhood of Torburg, The

Shadow had made a silent room his temporary sanctum. White paper was drawn beneath the light. A hand

The Shadow was making his deductions, piecing shreds of evidence, building upon the facts that he had

learned. His soft laugh came in a sinister whisper. The Shadow had much upon which to draw.

His findings paralleled those of the county prosecutor. But where Jornal's facts had dwindled to speculations,

The Shadow's statements were direct. Where the prosecutor had ceased to speculate, The Shadow went

Three deaths delivered by a single hand. Such was The Shadow's decision. Pen poised above paper and

Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp. Each had been slain by a bold venturer who had timed his strokes to

perfect precision. He had entered the homes of two; he had gone into the garage of the third. Murder

Like the sections of a jigsaw puzzle, The Shadow had put together the facts that he had gleaned from various

sources. His own investigations; conversations that Harry Vincent had reported; keen bits of deduction all

To The Shadow, the real beginning of crime went back to the time of David Claverly's death. The elder

Claverly had made investments in real estate. His life had ended at a time when he stood ready to clean up

Had David Claverly been murdered? The probabilities said yes. At any rate, his death had meant opportunity

for three men who had gained the property which David Claverly owned. Why had they loaned money on

that real estate? Why had all three gained the same hold upon David Claverly's possessions?

The facts pointed to a plot. Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp had weakened David Claverly's status in

Torburg. They had finally squeezed his most cherished possessions. But there, all semblance of a scheme had

It was common news that those three men had sold Claverly's property to a holding company. They had not

gained a great profit on the sale. That cleared them of complicity in the death of David Claverly, so far as

But in strange contrast was the behavior of Abner Zangwald. He had claimed to be David Claverly's friend.

He had never represented himself as a man of deep craft. Yet he had refused to sell to the company that had

Why had Beauchamp become so apprehensive after the deaths of Dunwell and Hosker? The Shadow's laugh

told why. It was plain that some secret of the past had worried the last of the three schemers. Beauchamp had

It was plain that he with Dunwell and Hosker had conspired to gain David Claverly's wealth. They must

have dealt in death, for death had been dealt to them. Yet Beauchamp, despite his fears, had made no

The Shadow laughed again. He saw the answer. Those three had not yet completed their chain of scheming.

Their sales to the holding company had not marked the final chapter in their book of evil deeds. The Shadow

Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp had made sales to a company which they actually controlled. But that fact

was a secret. When the power corporation came to Torburg, the holding company would sell it the property

and reap the profits. But the big share of the gain was intended for the pockets of the three schemers.

SUCH was The Shadow's verdict. He knew why those three had died. They had covered up all traces of their

schemes. They had done it well. Too well. Now that they were dead, their efforts had gone for naught. The

three had lost their opportunity. Their heirs would not reap the profits, for the whole scheme had been a

Certain living men possessed facts. That much had been revealed. Louis Vandrow, to begin with, knew that a

conspiracy had existed against David Claverly. The lawyer had proof that Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp

had broken down the contractor's business and had finally gained valuable property that belonged to Claverly

Abner Zangwald probably knew the same. But he had also gained a slice of David Claverly's real estate. He

had refused to sell it. Was that merely good business judgment; or did it indicate a suspicion of the scheme

Next, Milton Claverly knew facts. On the surface, he had gained but few those that he had learned by

hearsay. But the young man had communicated with his father at times; moreover, he had been the recipient

What had Milton found within that box? Papers of importance? Other objects? Milton had casually told Harry

Vincent that the box held nothing of consequence. But no one, other than Milton himself, had seen the actual

Lester the old servant claimed that his master had been murdered. He talked of bells of doom. Lester had

been close to David Claverly. The old servant was cunning, despite the outbursts in which he indulged. Lester

The Shadow knew that if living men told all, the riddle of the bells would be explained. The tower on the hill

The Shadow laughed. He knew that there must have been some other purpose for the tower.

Like the crypt in which Claverly's body had been placed. David Claverly had evidently possessed a genuine

fear of trance condition. That was why he had specified, in his will, that his corpse must be in the crypt for

Also in his will, he had stated that the bells which tolled his death should remain silent from thenceforth.

Provisions had been fulfilled. David Claverly's body had been placed temporarily in the crypt; the door of the

Yet bells of doom had rung! They had fulfilled the wild, dying words of David Claverly those words that

Lester had reported hearing. A laugh told that The Shadow had found a definite link. He could see an answer

The Shadow had been in the tower close upon the ringing. That had been on the second night of doom. He

had found no one there. He had even scaled the high, ornamental cupola. He had gained no trace of a bell

Last night the bells had rung again despite the fact that their clappers had been removed. Sheriff Locke had

tried to explain the fact; but his theory of duplicate clappers was puerile. There was a simpler answer to the

AGAIN the hand wrote on the paper. The Shadow was considering a final element. Two nights ago, someone

had driven from the neighborhood of Torburg, off to an old house in the woods. Last night, mobsmen had

Those crooks had been summoned to aid in murder. Their presence proved an outside connection. The killer,

lurking here in town, had gained the services of some aide who could obtain New York thugs when they were

They were connected. But The Shadow could see in them the workmanship of two men, not one. Death had

been delivered in different parts of town. The killer, by all rights, should have gone his way immediately after

The Shadow laughed as his hand inscribed a name that faded a few moments later. This was a deduction; but

one which fitted well with, circumstances that The Shadow knew. For The Shadow had come from New

York. There, he had witnessed the beginning of crime. Even previously, he had heard schemes discussed

The light went out. A swish from The Shadow's cloak. The master sleuth had work to do tonight. Though his

deductions had been keen, The Shadow had been looking for new clues to fit into the picture. One had come

Harry Vincent had talked to Phyllis Lingle. From the girl, The Shadow's agent had learned that someone had

been outside the crypt on three successive nights. Harry himself knew that a person had been there on the

third occasion; but Phyllis had given him proof that this had been the rule and not a mere exception.

Phyllis Lingle was another factor in the situation. The girl had lived in Torburg. She had been David

Claverly's ward. She had been away when her guardian had died. Nevertheless, she had heard Lester's story.

Did Phyllis know more than she had stated? Was her mention of a prowler by the crypt an effort to tell part,

but not the whole? Gliding through the darkness of the spreadout town, The Shadow laughed softly as he

Whatever the girl's motive, she had emphasized the crypt. Like the tower, the crypt had been built by David

Claverly. Crypt, like tower, could have played its part in crime. Its possibility as a secret entrance to the

LATER, the figure of The Shadow appeared at the end of the lowbuilt extension. Moonlight was present

tonight; but the figure by the door of the crypt remained unseen. In the shade cast by the end of the wing, The

A flashlight glimmered cautiously. Its rays were focused on the lock alone. The Shadow began his work. It

was a formidable task. Even to his probing pick, that lock seemed adamant. No other cracksman could have

opened it without a key. But The Shadow's task at last drew success. The lock yielded.

The Shadow entered the crypt. He closed the door behind him. It locked automatically.

Descending a short flight of darkened stairs, The Shadow used his flashlight to pierce the intense gloom of a

musty room. The rays showed the solid stone walls of the crypt. The Shadow's footsteps moved softly over a

The Shadow reached an inner door. Its lock was a duplicate of the first. This door, too, was at the head of a

short flight. Experienced with the first lock, The Shadow made swifter progress with the second. He came out

The flashlight ceased its glimmer. The Shadow paused. Then he cautiously ascended wooden steps and

opened a door to the hallway of the ground floor. He lingered there as footsteps passed. Someone was going

to the second floor. The Shadow heard the paces on the stairway; he listened as they reached the top. Then he

could hear traces of the same person going up another flight. The Shadow knew that Lester had retired for the

The Shadow stepped into the hallway. He could hear voices from the library. Harry Vincent talking with

Then, just as The Shadow was about to advance, the doorbell rang. Quickly, the phantom visitor moved into

the darkness of the parlor on the other side of the hallway. He closed the door behind him.

The bell rang again. Milton and Harry appeared in the hallway. Milton motioned for Harry to go upstairs.

Harry understood. This ring of the doorbell probably meant that the visitors had arrived from Zangwald's.

As Harry reached the landing, the bell sounded for the third time. Its rings were short and impatient. Harry

He caught the sound of footsteps in the hall. They were going toward the library.

A few minutes passed; then The Shadow opened the door of the parlor and stepped into the hall. Silent as a

The door was closed. The Shadow slowly turned the knob. Imperceptibly, he opened the barrier to the

thinness of an inch. The sound of voices came from within. Two men were talking. Milton Claverly's words

Peering through the narrow opening, The Shadow saw the men within. He caught the profile of the visitor. He

listened until he caught the trend of growled conversation; then, silently, he reclosed the door to the living

The Shadow moved away. He did not go back through the locked crypt. That was unnecessary. The Shadow

left by the front door. He moved stealthily through the night until he passed an open space.

From here, The Shadow could see the old tower, chimneylike in the moonlight. But his eyes did not gaze up

the slope of the hill, nor did his footsteps turn in that direction. The Shadow was still picturing the scene in

For Milton Claverly's lone visitor was not one who had come from Zangwald's. He was a man whom The

Shadow had not previously spied in Torburg, yet one whom The Shadow through his deductions had

The man who had been talking to Milton was Hatch Rosling. The two who had talked together upon the

Laurentic, and who had plotted to steal the rajah's jewels from Messler, were holding a new meeting. To The

Where? The Shadow knew. Death, if it struck again in Torburg, would find a victim whose identity was

clearly in The Shadow's mind. There was still time to meet the coming threat. That would be The Shadow's

THOUGH Harry Vincent had obeyed the injunction to depart when visitors arrived, he had used keen

thinking in his action. In the hallway on the second floor, Harry had paused to listen. Footsteps had told him

It was after eleven o'clock. Harry had naturally supposed that the conference was ended at Zangwald's. If so,

why had only one man come to this house? Harry could see but one plausible answer. Abner Zangwald must

Who had come in alone? Louis Vandrow, probably. With the menace to Milton forestalled, the lawyer would

naturally have returned to talk to his young client. Picturing Milton and Vandrow in the library, Harry could

It dawned on Harry that an opportunity lay below. Since his conversation with Phyllis, Harry had gained a

deep mistrust of circumstances. He knew that he could not rely upon Milton Claverly for a report of whatever

The only course was to listen in. It would be in accord with the designs of The Shadow, for Harry's chief had

ordered him to be alert. Discretion was part of the duty which belonged to Harry, yet he could see no danger

in venturing a trip downstairs. No one was on the floor below, except those two in the library.

Harry stole to the stairway and descended. His footsteps creaked at intervals; but with each pause, Harry

made sure that he had not been heard. There was no trace of voices. He knew that the library door must be

Reaching the hallway, Harry tiptoed in cautious fashion. He reached the door and laid his ear against it. He

could hear a growled voice from within; after that, the faint semblance of Milton Claverly's tone.

Harry realized suddenly that the visitor could not be Vandrow. If not, who was he? Milton had said nothing

about another visitor. Had Milton deceived Harry; or had Milton, himself, been deceived?

Harry recalled that Milton had gone into the parlor after Vandrow had departed. Harry's phone call had

reminded Milton to make one of his own. Ostensibly, Milton had business in New York that required calls to

that city. Affairs that dealt with the settlement of the estate. Milton had not been specific on that point.

Had Milton called someone after Vandrow's departure? Had he summoned the unknown visitor who was at

Picturing the events of the past hour, Harry realized that Lester, too, had had opportunity to enter the parlor.

Harry had acquired a profound mistrust for the old servant. Wild one moment, somber the next, Lester

Could Lester have entered the picture? Harry wondered. He thought of Lester upstairs on the third floor. He

Harry turned from the library door; as he did so, he fancied that he heard something creak from the stairs to

The stairway was obscure from this point. Harry went back across the hall and looked upward. No one was

on the steps; yet it was possible that Lester had reached the bottom before Harry had turned. Impelled by his

imagination, Harry swung about. At that instant, bony hands shot for his throat.

Lester had come down the steps. The servant had turned into a darkened passage that formed a route to the

cellar steps. He had spied Harry eavesdropping. That, apparently, had made him believe an attack was

THE force of Lester's spring sent Harry backward. The young man's head thumped against the newel post at

the bottom of the banister. That jar; the clutch of Lester's claws the combined factors were sufficient. Harry

Before Harry could recover, Lester had pinioned his arms. Half dragging, half carrying the victim, Lester

hauled Harry along the passage to the cellar. With surprising strength, the servant drew his victim down the

wooden steps, past the entrance to the crypt, off toward a coal bin in the corner.

As Harry half regained his senses, choking claws again pressed his throat. Harry subsided. Lester twisted his

arms in back of him and rolled Harry on his face. Whisking a rope from the corner of the bin, the servant

Rolled on his back, lying upon a heap of coal, Harry felt his consciousness return. It was too late. Already,

Lester was pressing a thick handkerchief between Harry's teeth. The servant was snarling venomously as he

Harry decided that it was best to make no struggle. He settled back and closed his eyes, pretending another

Lester departed. Harry heard his footsteps pound across the stone floor. He listened while the servant's

creaking tread ascended the steps. Then Harry began to struggle with the cords. They were tight; but he knew

While he struggled, resting at brief intervals, Harry tried to figure out the servant's purpose. Had Lester

merely decided to mete out this punishment because he had caught Harry snooping? Or did the servant plan

Both questions were elusive. In either event, Lester had been convinced that the bonds would remain secure.

For he had made no search of Harry's pockets. Hence he had failed to find the stubnosed automatic that

UPSTAIRS, Lester had reached the gloomy groundfloor hall. A silent chuckle quivered on his leering lips

as he looked toward the closed door of the library. Milton Claverly and his visitor had not heard the sounds of

The servant approached the closed door, waited there a moment, then turned back toward the stairway.

Crouched forward, he began a slow ascent, cautiously contriving to keep his footsteps unheard. He reached

When his footfalls ceased, a door opened and another person crept into the darkened second story hall.

It was Phyllis Lingle. The girl had heard Lester come down from the third floor. She had opened her door

after the servant had passed. She had heard the scuffle from the floor below. But Phyllis, when she had first

peered down the stairway, had observed no one below. She had advanced too late to see Lester dragging

The girl had heard Lester's return. She had stepped back in her room to let the servant pass. Sure that Lester

was on the third floor, the girl was anxious to learn what had happened below. She crept to the stairway and

began a slow descent. Halfway down, Phyllis halted. She could hear the door of the study as it opened.

Low voices. Milton's tone then a growled interruption. Guarded footsteps. Milton and someone else were

Phyllis waited; but they did not pass the foot of the stairway. Instead, they turned through the portion of the

Crouched on a step, Phyllis peered between the uprights of the banisters. She could see the heads and

shoulders of the two men as they went by. Though the hall was gloomy, she caught a clear glimpse of

Milton's face. It was strained and tense. Then the girl saw the features of the visitor.

The sharp profile of Hatch Rosling was easily discernible. The girl had never observed that face before; but

the hatchet features were ones that she knew she would not forget: Rosling's countenance was a vicious one.

The two men passed from view. Shoulder to shoulder, Rosling had followed only a pace behind Milton. The

girl heard their footsteps turn. She thought that she heard a door open. She was sure that the two had taken a

Boldly, Phyllis arose from the step and hurried to the ground floor. The girl was wearing slippers; her

footsteps were light, almost noiseless. She reached the passage that the men had taken. The door to the cellar

was ajar. Opening it, the girl stared toward the little landing. Her gaze froze.

By the light that came from behind her a dim trickle from the gloomy hall Phyllis could see the entrance

to the crypt. The door, a massive barrier of steel, was closed no longer. It stood half opened; beyond it

As the girl remained staring, that blackness was replaced by a dull, yet mellow glow. Something had

GASPING, Phyllis turned and hastened back to the hall. She knew where Milton and his unknown

If the inner door could be opened, so could the outer. The girl remembered the box that Milton had gained

from his father's lawyer; the box that he had opened with the key that Vandrow had left with Lester.

Phyllis realized that the key to the crypt could have been in that box. A duplicate key, other than the one that

had been destroyed. Her fear was realized. The crypt actually formed a passageway in and out of the

The girl reached the second floor. Impetuously, she turned into her own room. She stared toward the end of

the extension which housed the crypt, trembling as she gazed from the window. She saw no one; but she

realized that either Milton or his companion perhaps both could already have continued through and out

It was still possible that they were yet in the crypt; preparing to proceed upon their way. But the girl did not

wait to see. Phyllis was terrified. She wanted aid. She dared not appeal to Lester. Already, the servant's

actions had aroused her complete suspicion. There was only one person upon whom she could rely: Harry

Phyllis pattered into the hall. She hurried along and tapped softly at Harry's door. There was no response.

Phyllis tapped again. Then, fearing to increase the loudness of the raps, she opened the door and entered.

The room was bathed in moonlight. The bed was in plain view. It was made up. Harry Vincent had not gone

Wildly, the girl looked about. She saw that the room was empty. With a sob, Phyllis sank in a chair beside the

Fearful minutes ticked by. Phyllis dared not leave the room. Menace seemed to exist throughout the old

mansion. The girl could only wait for Harry's return. She looked from the window. It opened on the side

The whitened moonlight restored the girl's courage; but only for the moment. As she glanced appealingly

toward the sky, the girl's eyes spied a bulky shape projecting above the trees along the slope. It was the top of

The slitted belfry; the topheavy cupola above it. The sight brought shivers to Phyllis Lingle. She remembered

Lester's croak of ghouls within that tower. Then came the dull realization that midnight would soon arrive.

Staring in horrified fascination, listening with a tenseness that she could not loosen, the girl waited. Silent and

The overwhelming dread that gripped her was inspired by one thought. Phyllis Lingle was awaiting a new

ABNER ZANGWALD was querulous. Standing in the center of his living room, the bushybrowed man was

rasping harsh opinions. The listeners were prosecutor, sheriff and coroner; Louis Vandrow was present, in

"Why should this conference be extended?" demanded Zangwald. "It seems as though I have been interrupted

every time I sought the floor. You, Jornal" he faced the prosecutor "have jumped from one absurdity to

"You two" he looked at the coroner and the sheriff "have also delayed our proceedings.. And you,

Vandrow, have found several opportunities to break in before I could speak. It looks as though we are

"I refer to last night," snapped Zangwald. "I invited Sheriff Locke here last night; also Coroner Thomas and

"I shall tell you. Because Locke was busy up at that tower, taking out those infernal clappers that belonged in

the bells. Useless folly on his part. Nevertheless, Locke finally arrived, bringing Thomas with him.

"Then Vandrow delayed us. He made a trip to see young Milton Claverly. Something that he should have

avoided. He called us from there. He said that he would be over here promptly. But he delayed us by his

"Wait a minute," put in the sheriff, hotly. "Don't put all delay on Vandrow. What about yourself? You went

up to your study after Vandrow called. You didn't show up for half an hour. Maybe more."

"Not right away," broke in the coroner. "It was five minutes, at least, before you appeared."

"Come, come," interrupted the prosecutor. "Who is quibbling now? We have given you an opportunity to

"Very well." Zangwald glowered. "Listen. Someone in this town is responsible for the deaths of Dunwell,

Hosker and Beauchamp. Someone who had reason to be an enemy of theirs. The three men are dead. But

"We can not tell," replied Zangwald. "There may be reasons. These deaths look like a scheme of vengeance.

Dealing with an avenger, we may expect anything. That is why I demand action. I believe that there is one

The prosecutor nodded. He tapped the arm of his chair in speculative fashion. He made no comment; but

"Regarding his actions on the past three nights," retorted Zangwald. "Where was he? What was he doing

"In his home," replied Vandrow. "I have already questioned him on those points."

"I feel positive of it. I believe that he can prove that he was there. What is more, I am sure that he can be

"Good," rumbled Zangwald. "You have anticipated my suggestion, Vandrow. Gentlemen" he swept his

fierce eye about the group "let me propose a prompt visit to the home of Milton Claverly. A visit" he

paused to look toward the grandfather's clock, which was at the threequarter hour "a visit that will take

THERE was silence. Then the big clock gave the threequarter's chime. Men were pondering upon

Zangwald's words. With a bristling frown, the selectman offered an explanation for his statement.

"Twelve o'clock," stated Zangwald, "would be an appropriate hour to discourse on the subject of murder. It

was the hour when bells tolled doom. It would be the psychological time to begin our quiz. Particularly"

"Because of your deputies, up by the tower? So you still have faith in your men. Even though they failed to

"I'm counting on my deputies," grinned Locke. "But not on what they're going to do. I'm counting on what

"They've taken out the bells," returned Locke, "that's what! I gave them the key. They brought the bells down

from the tower. They stuck the bells on a truck and took them to the town hall. That's where the bells are

"Forget the bells," rumbled Zangwald. "We are concerned with murder. Claverly's house is but a few minutes'

All nodded with the exception of Vandrow. The lawyer came to his feet. His objection sounded like a plea.

"It's unfair!" he exclaimed. "Unfair to go so soon. If we appear exactly at twelve o'clock, our action will place

an undue strain upon Milton Claverly. We will come as inquisitors, not as friends."

"Much." Vandrow wheeled to the prosecutor. "Don't you see that the suggestion is unfair? We have no

"That is why my plan should be followed," challenged Zangwald. "What do you think, Jornal?"

"I believe that you are right, Mr. Zangwald," granted the prosecutor. "If Milton Claverly is concerned in

murder, we should take any advantage in quizzing him. If he is innocent, it does not matter when we call

Nods from coroner and sheriff. Louis Vandrow was overruled. The lawyer shrugged his shoulders and looked

"Very well," he said. "But if events prove that we have acted unfairly, remember that you have acted against

Vandrow delivered the statement in an emphatic tone. It had almost the ring of an accusation. Zangwald

glared; the others looked stern. Vandrow turned toward the door, to indicate his willingness to follow the

The lawyer stopped short. His eyes widened. The others, still staring at him, wondered what had caused his

abrupt halt. Zangwald wheeled to face the door; the three officials copied his example.

Framed in the wide doubledoorway were five masked men. Each held a glistening revolver. In wedge

formation, they had chosen separate targets. Each of the intruders was covering a different man.

THE central invader growled an order. The tone of his voice made it plain that these five were mobsmen.

Their rough clothing; the blue bandannas that served them as masks; the words of the temporary leader all

"Smart guys, eh?" rasped the middle gorilla. "Tryin' to make trouble? Well, we'll give it to you. There's one

bozo in your outfit that thinks he can queer things. He's the guy we're here to get. So the best you mugs can

do is stand quiet. There's four of you that ain't goin' to get hurt; but there's one that is. After we've plugged

"We'll make a getaway, too. Don't worry about that. We ain't worried about none of you guys stoppin' us.

We came out here an' got our orders. Rub out one of you, let the others ride. So don't squawk."

While five crooks held their living targets at bay, those covered men were staring. Each seemed to feel that he

was the one toward whom the coming shots would be intended. The gorillas awaited their leader's command.

The leader was covering the prosecutor. But his eyes swung away, to move from man to man. It was not

certain whom he would pick as the single victim. His finger was on the trigger of his gun. The lips beneath

A terrific smash came from the side of the room. Someone had hurled himself upon a pair of French windows

that led to a side porch. The hinged barriers came hurtling inward from the fierce blow. Glass shattered with

Crimson flashed from the lining of a sweeping cloak. Black replaced red as the unexpected figure whirled

toward the doubledoorway. Burning eyes glittered from beneath the brim of a slouch hat. Hidden lips

THE snarl came from the central mobsman. Revolver hands swung toward the cloaked intruder. But the

startled gorillas were too late. The aiming automatics boomed with instantaneous precision.

Thunderous roars reechoed through the room while revolvers barked a wild, hopeless response. Thugs went

crumpling before The Shadow's centered fusillade. Answering gats sent bullets winging wide of the dread

Two mobsmen bore the brunt. Their blocking bodies were riddled as the others dropped away. A third man,

The last two mobsters, end men of the wedge, dived frantically away. One was wounded; the other unscathed.

But both wanted freedom from that irresistible bombardment. As the two ruffians fled, The Shadow whirled

The five men whom The Shadow had delivered stared bewildered by the fray. Then the prosecutor brought

them to life as he swung about and followed the path that The Shadow had taken. The others came in back of

him. They reached the porch. Off below the house, the moonlight showed the escaping mobsters, running for

An automatic spoke from the lawn. One mobster sprawled. A second shot must have clipped the wall that the

other gorilla was hurdling, for the man dropped out of sight like a hunted rabbit. Then came the roar of a

The Shadow's guns were stabbing their staccato flashes through the night. The long range; intervening trees

these sufficed to save the mobsters in the car and the gorilla who had joined them.

The five men on the porch turned as one, to pick out the phantom shape in black. They could find The

An eerie, outlandish laugh. The Shadow whirled and swept across the lawn. They watched his shape pass

from the sphere of moonlight, into a cluster of trees beyond a wall. The Shadow was lost from view; but the

Off beyond, dull lights appeared from lower windows of a moonlightbathed mansion. Straight across an

intervening hollow, in almost the exact direction that The Shadow had taken, stood the home of Milton

"Come!" cried Jornal. "To Claverly's! It is almost midnight! Hurry never mind a car "

WITH one accord, the five dropped from the side of the porch. All were husky even Abner Zangwald,

despite his seniority in years. Panting, they dashed in the direction of Claverly's. As they ran, they could see

Then, as they clambered up a slope, they lost sight of the tower. The house was their goal, a hundred yards

The prosecutor, first to reach the door, turned the knob and found the barrier unlocked. He waited for the

others. They came up, puffing, ready to follow Jornal in the house. Then, in a trice, they stopped. They stood

Midnight had sounded during their mad dash. Chimes from a steeple had ceased their strokes. Now, through

the silence of the moonlight air came a token of doom. Clanging from beyond the hill came the dull toll of the

The monotone was solemn. It held five men rooted. Those strokes were a dirge of death. They were sounding

a doom that had not fallen. They were donging for crime that had been frustrated by The Shadow.

Yet the five men stood, even though they knew that murder had failed tonight. There was reason for their

stupor. All remembered what the sheriff had said at Zangwald's. The bells had been removed from the tower.

Mournful bells hideous bells. More than that, they were solemn, ghostly bells. Like spectral messengers

THE bells kept tolling. Ceaselessly, unending, they pronounced their dirge. As moments passed, standing

men expected the knell to end. It continued, defiantly. The clamor from the tower was imbued with a hideous

The whole air took on an affrighted quiver. Ghoulish discords drove their monotone with a clangor that

Abner Zangwald rumbled fiercely. His voice brought the others to their senses. Scowling, the big man

pointed into the house. His motion indicated that the answer might be there. Attention gained, Zangwald

There they spread, searching through the doors of opened rooms. Louis Vandrow ventured into the hallway

Then someone approached the spot where the lawyer was standing. It was Zangwald.

Officials arrived. The prosecutor shouldered his way past Zangwald. He drew a revolver as he marched down

the steps. The others followed; and all the while, the muffled dirge of the tower bells formed its dull

He pointed to the opened door of the crypt. They could see the dull light from below. Its ghoulish glow was

forbidding; yet the prosecutor did not falter. He led the way down the stone steps. He was holding his

A strange sight greeted the arrivals. The crypt was illuminated by hidden lights located in bowllike

containers, one in each corner of the room. Revealed in the center of the twelvefoot square apartment were

A tile had been raised from the floor. The entering men could see a tiny light shining within the opening.

Milton's hand was thrust into the hollow. It was holding a master switch pressed to one side.

Rosling was standing a few feet away. He was covering Milton with a revolver. Stooped by the opening in

the floor, Milton was obviously obeying Rosling's command to keep the switch in place.

Rosling looked up as he heard the five approach. A grin showed on his hatchet face. He lowered his gun as he

ALL the while, the distant bells were tolling, bringing a muffled sound to the depths of the opened crypt.

Rosling made a threatening gesture with his revolver. The young man released the switch. It sprang back

"What does this mean?" demanded the prosecutor. "Which of these men is young Claverly?"

The prosecutor had indicated Rosling. It was Louis Vandrow who responded. The lawyer stepped forward

"His name is Rosling," declared Vandrow. "He is a private detective who has been looking into these crimes.

"Let me explain," interposed Vandrow, solemnly. "I must admit that this climax comes to me as something of

a surprise. In order to make it plain, I must tell exactly what happened since Milton Claverly's return."

The lawyer gained the floor. He looked approvingly toward Rosling; then stared sorrowfully at Milton. While

"The day that Milton Claverly returned to Torburg," he stated, "this man" he paused to indicate Rosling

"came to my office and introduced himself. He had credentials that announced him as Charles Rosling. He

proved to be a detective who has worked as special investigator upon international cases.

"Rosling informed me that he was watching Milton Claverly. He declared that Milton had been forced to

leave certain countries because of criminal activities. I told Rosling that I doubted that Milton was actually a

crook. Nevertheless, I felt in all fairness that I should give Rosling a chance to prove it either pro or con.

"So while I maintained a normal attitude toward Milton, I kept secret the fact that Rosling was coming in and

out of town. Then came the murder of Maurice Dunwell. It worried me. But I could not bring myself to

"The same after the death of Stuart Hosker and Willis Beauchamp. I found myself torn between duty to the

law and my position as Milton Claverly's attorney. Rosling came to my home. He had failed to gain the

evidence he wanted. Therefore, I would not accept his opinion that Milton was the murderer.

"But now, the case is indisputable. Here we have Milton Claverly, in his own home, operating a special

device that has caused bells to ring from the old tower. I suppose that it must be a set of duplicate bells. That,

however, is beside the case. The important point is that Rosling has trapped a rogue."

Milton Claverly was about to speak. Words failed when they reached his lips. The prosecutor waved the

"ALL right," agreed Rosling. "Here they are. This fellow Claverly has a bad record, see? Mostly small stuff

he pulled in the past. Slick gambling on board boats. Troubles like that. But enough to make people keep an

"He came in from Calcutta to England on board a P O boat. A fellow named Messler was supposed to have

been on that ship. Messler had a lot of jewels belonging to a rajah and he took a different boat. Some guys

"In England, the jewels were insured for the trip across the Atlantic. Messler had arranged that by cable from

Calcutta. The insurance company sent me to England to come in on Messler's ship the Laurentic. I did. I

"I talked to him in his stateroom. Pretended I was a crook, too. Told him I was after those same jewels. Well

I found out he was hooked up with some New York crooks. But thinking I might queer his game, he

"We got in to New York. I tipped off the police. They queered the jewel robbery. Knowing some racketeers, I

got just what I wanted. Sworn affidavits from smallfry saying that they'd seen Milton Claverly with a crook

named Mike Tocson. That guy Tocson was the one that tried to rob Messler's. Tocson got bumped."

Rosling pulled the affidavits from his pocket and handed them to the prosecutor. Grinning at Milton, he

"I saw Mr. Vandrow here in town," he said. "He was kind of partial to young Claverly. So I went out on my

own. Kept a watch on this house. I figured that since Claverly had flivved on the jewel robbery, he'd start

"Well, three nights ago, I didn't see him, but I thought I heard somebody sneaking around this house. Then I

heard those bells ring. I wondered what was up. When I learned the next day that there'd been murder here, I

"I did. I caught Claverly sneaking in toward the house, but he slipped away from me. Where he got to, I

couldn't guess. Then the bells started in again. I figured I'd have to do better than before.

"Last night, I was here again. When the bells started to ring, I was outside this crypt. I'd seen the locked door.

I'd figured it was the only way Claverly could get in once he was out. I couldn't watch everywhere; but I

"I heard somebody made a grab for him thought it was Claverly. That was right after the bells. But it

turned out to be another guy. Some fellow stopping here in the house. I had to beat it. So tonight, I called

Rosling paused triumphantly. He looked about the circle of listeners; then shot a contemptuous glance toward

"I came in through the front door," declared Rosling. "I spotted young Claverly heading out from his library.

I followed him down here. I caught him, working on this switch. I figured the game. Somebody else doing his

"I could hear the bells begin to ring, muffled like. So I pulled out my gat and I covered Claverly. I kept him at

the switch, hoping somebody would turn up. They did. There's my story. Here's your man."

THE prosecutor turned toward Milton. Jornal's gaze was withering. Yet Milton faced it. He was tense,

"This is a lie!" he cried. "My past is clear. I tell you, it's a lie! I didn't arrange that job at Messler's. Rosling

"Hear him?" queried Rosling. "He admits he was in the job. That backs up those affidavits, prosecutor. I'll tell

you something else. Those mugs that were bumped off last night on the Lewisport road I'll bet you'll find

"Let me speak," urged Louis Vandrow. "I must state something that I previously concealed. Milton Claverly

has had an unfortunate past. He admitted it in letters to his father. I have those letters. I intended to destroy

them. I told Milton that I had done so. Fortunately, I can produce them now that they are necessary.

"What is more, I gave Milton a box from his father. It is probable that the box contained the secret of this

crypt; also the key that Milton needed to make entry here. Now that the truth is out, I must agree that Milton

"You are wrong!" exclaimed Milton. "Rosling has duped you, Mr. Vandrow. He didn't find me in the crypt

tonight. He forced me to come here at the point of a gun. He had the key to the place."

"Listen to him," sneered Rosling. "He was down here when I walked into the house. He can't prove

"Silence!" broke in Jornal. "Sheriff, arrest this man. Rosling's testimony goes. Claverly can't prove that it is

The words came in a woman's voice. The prosecutor turned. Phyllis Lingle had entered the crypt. The girl

"This man has lied!" she declared. "Milton is right. The man came in here at half past eleven. I saw him and

Milton come out of the library. I could only see their heads and shoulders as I gazed from the stairs.

"I wondered why Milton looked pale. I know the answer now. This man was close behind him. He must have

"That's right," blurted Milton. "Thanks, Phyllis. Maybe you'll listen to me now, prosecutor... You will?

ROSLING had pocketed his gun. Locke was covering him. The hatchetfaced man shrugged his shoulders.

"Rosling had the key," declared Milton. "He made me come here. He forced me to raise the tile in the floor. I

had never even been in this crypt. I was amazed when I saw the switch. Rosling made me operate it."

"What a story!" jeered Rosling. "I suppose next you'll be trying to deny that you were in on that job at

"That's just what I'm going to do," declared Milton. "Listen, prosecutor. I did see Rosling on the boat. I did

promise to aid with the jewel robbery as inside man. But I doublecrossed Rosling. I spilled the word to

"I can prove it by Messler himself. I've talked with him by long distance. He'll come from New York any

time I say; and he'll bring Detective Joe Cardona with him! I did meet Mike Tocson, because Rosling here

insisted on it. But that was all part of the game. The law will square me; and the law is looking for Hatch

Hatch Rosling stood stupefied. He had never expected this finish. All his sangfroid was gone. Wilted, the

exposed crook stood muttering. He realized what his arrest would mean. Sent back to New York, he would go

up the river for attempted burglary. But Rosling had a greater fear the death chair.

"I I didn't do no killing!" he pleaded. "Honest! I only rang these bells. I I was wise to this layout down

Looking about the group, Rosling caught a sudden glare of eyes. He realized that he was getting into deep

"It was just sort of a joke," he explained, weakly. "Trying to put something over on young Claverly, here."

"You were," challenged Milton. "Yes Rosling, I think we can believe you when you say that you were merely

an accomplice. Someone else did those murders; and there's only one man mean enough. He's the one that

The bushybrowed man was glaring as others turned toward him. At first rage showed on Zangwald's face. In

a moment, the anger died. Zangwald's bass rumble filled the crypt as he answered the accusing words.

"THIS is absurd!" he declared. "Totally absurd! This young man is entirely mistaken. I was his father's

friend; as I can prove when the time demands. For the present, however, I shall limit my statements.

"Tonight" Zangwald's brows knitted as he paused "five of us were trapped by masked gunmen. We were

told that one man was due to die. Three persons present were officials of the law. None of them had gained a

"That left two of us, Louis Vandrow and myself. The thought flashed through my mind. Which of us was to

die? Vandrow or myself? I cannot see in light of what has happened here why crooks should have sought

Vandrow's death. Apparently, Vandrow was ready to support this fellow Rosling, who appears to be the chief

"Those who support crooks are sometimes crooks themselves. Moreover, I could gain nothing by Vandrow's

death; but he could gain much by mine. Vandrow is the lawyer who controls my estate. He would manage it

should I die. I have entrusted an important matter to Louis Vandrow. He could gain a million dollars more

Zangwald wheeled toward Vandrow as he paused. Fierce accusation showed beneath bushy brows. Others

turned; a cry came from the prosecutor. The accusation had come too late from Zangwald's lips. Stepping

Only the sheriff had a weapon ready. He turned instinctively as he heard Jornal's exclamation. Instantly,

Rosling pulled out his pocketed revolver and jabbed it against the sheriff's ribs. Locke let his revolver fall to

Vandrow motioned with his gun. People backed away from him toward a corner of the crypt. Sheriff and

At Vandrow's next command, Lester and Phyllis backed toward the same corner. Only the prosecutor

remained. His hands were raised while Vandrow and Rosling kept covering the others. Vandrow dipped his

left hand into the prosecutor's pocket and brought out Jornal's revolver. He dropped it in his own pocket; then

All were at bay while the lawyer and his henchman held them covered. An insidious chuckle came from

Louis Vandrow's lips. The archcrook had revealed himself. Here, in the depths of the crypt, a master of

"I SHALL be brief," asserted Vandrow, with an evil smirk. "The time for bluff is ended. Sometimes a game

goes wrong. This one did; but the error will be easily rectified. However" his dry tone carried a menace

"You have spoken of murder. It is my turn to speak. Murder is my specialty. Some time ago" this was a

chuckle "I did away with David Claverly. Of course I had an accomplice his physician, Doctor Humbrell.

He made a slight alteration in prescriptions, according to my order. Poor Humbrell he hesitated at murder;

but I knew some facts that would have put him in the penitentiary. So he did the dirty work and wound up

"Yes, I saw that he landed there. That was another easy matter. But here is news for you. I was not alone in

my enterprise of evil. There were three men who knew about it. I shall name them. Maurice Dunwell Stuart

"Why? I shall tell you. As David Claverly's lawyer, I knew that he had contracted with a great power

corporation. Certain real estate near Torburg would be worth millions once the company was ready to buy it.

As David Claverly's attorney, I could not profit in the deal. But I saw a way to gain a huge share.

"I talked with Dunwell, Hosker and Beauchamp. They liked my scheme. They started it off by undermining

David Claverly's business. The real estate became his sole possession. He borrowed money on it. He died. As

attorney for his estate, I saw that the real estate, not money, fell into the hands of the lenders."

"You crook!" rumbled Zangwald. "If I had known why you handled matters that way "

"You knew nothing," interposed Vandrow, with a snarl. "No more out of you, Zangwald."

He turned to Rosling. The man approached. Vandrow spoke in a low mumble. Rosling nodded and shifted his

revolver to Vandrow's left hand. With two weapons, the lawyer covered the helpless group while Rosling

"There are twelve bullets in these two weapons," observed Vandrow, coolly. "More than enough to slaughter

all of you. I am an expert marksman, as Sheriff Locke can testify. His gun, incidentally, lies here at my feet. I

have the prosecutor's revolver in my pocket. Extra bullets, if necessary. Is that understood?"

"My three friends" the tone was sarcastic "did not want suspicion attached to themselves. So they sold

their real estate at a small profit. To a dummy holding company that I controlled by straw men. The cleanup

"Not much for the man who was the brain. Moreover, you, Zangwald, held some of the real estate. David

Claverly had placed it in your hands as security for a loan. I had to make you take it when I settled the estate.

So that things would look on the level, so far as Dunwell and his two pals were concerned.

"Tell us, Zangwald" the lawyer paused in ironical fashion "just what did you intend to do with that real

"I HELD it as security for fifty thousand dollars," rumbled Zangwald. "I knew the power corporation would

want it. I thought Dunwell and those other fellows were fools to sell to a holding company. I intend to sell for

"You should say 'intended,'" corrected Vandrow. "Not 'intend.' You didn't talk to young Claverly about it,

because you wanted to make sure he was deserving. At present you are well disposed toward him. Too bad,

"I discovered a way to gain all for myself. A simple way. It so happened that David Claverly had a fear of

being buried alive. That is why he built this crypt. At the same time, he built the belltower. I alone knew

"Buried here, David could if he came to life cause bells to ring from the tower. It was I who had the bells

tolled when David Claverly died. Then Lester spread the story that termed them bells of doom. Poor Lester!

"I knew that Milton Claverly was coming back to Torburg. I hired Hatch Rosling, chief of my straw men, to

get him mixed in crime when he reached New York. We knew that Milton's past had been none too good; we

"We thought it worked that stunt at Messler's. Then Rosling came here to work with me. I chose murder as

my own prerogative. I gave Rosling the key to the crypt so that he could come here and ring the bells of

"I killed Dunwell; then Hosker; finally Beauchamp. I was the man who called Beauchamp and advised him

how to get out of town. I was in the garage. I shot him. The fool! He trusted me. Why? Because he, like the

other two, had a guilty conscience. They all thought Milton Claverly was after them. They were afraid to talk.

"I now control the holding company. All I needed was the death of Abner Zangwald. As executor of his

estate, I would sell his property to that same holding company. So I had to arouse Milton Claverly against

"Those mobsters should have killed you, Zangwald. The rest of us would have come over here, to trap Milton

with the goods. Well it does not matter." Vandrow paused to calculate. "I shall kill you now, Zangwald.

You also, Milton. And all the rest of you. It will look like a gunfray. My word and Rosling's will be

Milton Claverly was clenching his fists. He wanted to spring upon this fiend. Yet he realized that it would be

hopeless. He would die; Vandrow would be forced to deliver a double fusillade. Even though all were

Vandrow sneered as he saw Milton subside. Steady behind his guns, the master crook put a sarcastic

"Have I forgotten anything? Is there any detail which has escaped me? Ah, yes, I can guess your question,

sheriff. You took the clappers from the bells; yet the bells rang. You removed the bells; still, they tolled

"A riddle, isn't it?" His words were gibing. "Too bad that none of you can answer it. Well, I regret that time is

VANDROW stopped short. A sudden sound came to his ears. More terrible than the forgotten clangor of the

Louis Vandrow turned his head. Slowly, his revolvers sank downward. The archfiend was trapped. There,

just within the steps to the outer door, stood the shape that he had seen before. A figure cloaked in black.

Looming automatics; big, ponderous deadly weapons the same that had mown down Louis Vandrow's

firing squad. This was the being whose presence at Zangwald's had seemed a lucky chance in Vandrow's

The lawyer thought that he had tricked The Shadow. He had never dreamed that this blackclad master could

penetrate the locked door of the vault. Louis Vandrow, supercrook, was trapped by the master of all

To those others who stared in the direction of Louis Vandrow's gaze, the sudden arrival of The Shadow was

also an unexplainable manifestation. This crypt was like a tomb. The manifestation of so ominous a presence

None knew that The Shadow had previously probed the locks of the crypt's door; that, on this occasion, his

entry had been accomplished minutes ago; that his lurking figure had been waiting upon the steps from the

The Shadow had permitted Louis Vandrow to speak. He had wanted witnesses to learn the fiend's story from

Vandrow's own lips. The lawyer's gloating words had become a confession. That was why The Shadow

The mockery was significant as it crept through the crypt. Those who heard it realized that The Shadow, as

capably as Vandrow, could have recited these facts. For the mirth bespoke understanding. Now, The Shadow,

"You spoke of bells in the tower," hissed The Shadow. "But you have not told their secret. The secret that

you learned" his hiss was a sinister sneer in Vandrow's ears "and the secret which I discovered. Bells in

the cupola; hidden bells, identical in tone to those in the belfry. Bells that could be heard through openings

that formed when the switch was pressed within this crypt. Bells that would ring automatically, with the

A pause. The Shadow was stepping inward. His flashing eyes caught the dull light and returned it with a

"The spirit from the tower!" croaked the servant. "The one that was here last night. He knows of the bells!

"I divined that secret on the second night," hissed The Shadow. "I knew it then, in part. Another task on the

road to Lewisport prevented me from coming here last night. But tonight, I arrived.

"I could see that three dead men had feared to speak. I knew that Milton Claverly was innocent. I have

Milton stared. The Shadow had been aboard the Laurentic. Through the young man's brain flashed that

recollection of a wardrobe door that had not swung shut with the lurching of the liner!

"Someone in Torburg was responsible for crime," resumed The Shadow. "The murderer knew his ground too

well. I knew that he had accomplices, that murderer. I was searching for Rosling as his tool.

"You or Zangwald. Both had the opportunity. You, Vandrow, were the one I chose. Your closeness to Milton

Claverly. The insinuations that you drilled into his mind. Your visits here. Your opportunity for gain.

"Tonight" The Shadow's tone was solemn "I named you as the murderer. I marked Rosling as your

accomplice. I looked for no crime from him. I knew where you would be. I was there, to prevent the death of

ALL knew that The Shadow had reference to Abner Zangwald as the man marked for doom tonight. The

Louis Vandrow stood helpless; yet no one made a move. All were trusting in this one rescuer.

Vandrow snarled as he quailed. Oaths were on his lips. His face was whitened in the gloom. The lawyer saw

death in the eyes before him. He expected a flash from an automatic. His curses ended. Still holding his

useless revolver; pointed downward, he felt the paralysis of fear creep through his arms.

Cringing, the lawyer turned to escape The Shadow's burning gaze. He looked toward the door from the cellar;

the one through which he had entered here. Then a mad cry escaped the lawyer's leap.

With a frantic endeavor, he sprang from the path of The Shadow's guns, off toward the corner where all the

A counterthrust had come. Through that doorway bounded the form of Hatch Rosling; behind him, three

gangsters. One was the fellow who had escaped from Zangwald's; two were gorillas who had been waiting in

Had The Shadow sought to cover Vandrow, the act would have made him a temporary target for those

entering crooks. Rosling, as he leaped furiously forward, came unarmed. He had given his revolver to

Shots roared through the crypt. Bursts of flame from automatics came with the flashes of the gangster

revolvers. The Shadow whirled as he fired, away from the corner where helpless persons stood. It was a

A bullet clipped The Shadow's hat brim. Another winged the folds of the cloak. A singing slug skimmed The

Shadow's shoulder; a hit, though a slight one, for the crook who had fired it. But all the while, The Shadow's

The last barks from revolvers came from sinking hands. While they fired, the gorillas were sagging. Useless

shots ricocheted as they chipped the tiled floor. Then Rosling fell upon The Shadow. Madly, he managed to

grasp the gun that was in the gloved left hand. He wrenched the weapon free and aimed.

Already The Shadow's right was swinging. Malletlike, the automatic was descending for Rosling's wrist.

Swifter than the crook could find the trigger, The Shadow was ending Rosling's fight. Yet amid this duel

A gun barked. The shot came from the steps to the cellar landing. A whining bullet found its mark in Hatch

HARRY had finally managed to loose his bonds. He had scudded for the crypt, reaching there just as the fray

broke loose. Clambering in as crooks were falling, Harry had done his part to aid The Shadow. His

stubnosed automatic was in his fist; a wreath of smoke was curling from its muzzle.

The Shadow and his agent turned toward the corner. Through the smoke they saw a grim unequal struggle. It

was one that The Shadow had anticipated; one upon which he had counted when he had dealt with the crooks

Five men had launched themselves en masse upon Louis Vandrow. Those five were Milton Claverly, Abner

Zangwald and the three officers of the law. The lawyer was fighting fiendishly. Hands were forcing his arms

Yet, as The Shadow turned, Vandrow wrested free. He lost one revolver; he swung the other and dealt the

coroner a glancing blow. He delivered a vicious punch that sent the prosecutor staggering. Leaping from the

sheriff's grasp, he rolled against the wall and turned to aim his revolver at Abner Zangwald.

Harry Vincent could not fire; for Milton Claverly was in his path. Moreover, Phyllis Lingle was crouching in

But The Shadow, his left arm hanging limp, held Louis Vandrow covered. Despite the fact, The Shadow

As Harry stood bewildered, a revolver spat its flame. Louis Vandrow slumped. It was then that Harry

understood. The shot had come from the gun that Vandrow had lost. Lester, watching catlike for his chance,

The Shadow had spied the old servant's action. Though ready with his own weapon, the cloaked warrior had

waited. The last death had been in the making; to Lester belonged the privilege of its delivery.

Fiercely, the servant had gained vengeance. He had killed the man who had murdered his old master. The

Shadow's shot had not been needed. Already, Louis Vandrow was sprawled upon the floor, coughing out his

Turning, The Shadow swept toward the outer door. His form blended with blackness as Harry Vincent came

forward to join the others. Harry realized now that Lester had eliminated him purely because he had caught

him spying on Milton Claverly. Harry's timely aid in the battle had squared matters. His part was to remain

Lester stood in the middle of the room. While others were half bewildered by the sudden end of the struggle,

the servant still found a duty to perform. Dropping to the tiled floor, Lester fixed his gaze on the dying face of

Louis Vandrow. Then, with a grim croak, the servant pressed the switch that was set deep in the floor.

Muffled, far away, came the message of the bells. Louis Vandrow heard the distant sound. Those bells were

The dirge continued. Bells of doom were tolling the death of Louis Vandrow as they had marked a knell for

the ears of David Claverly. With a final cough, the lawyer gave a writhe and then lay still. His career of evil

Yet the bells kept on as Lester held the switch. Triumph showed upon the servant's withered visage as his

bright, sparkling eyes still stared toward the rugged face of Louis Vandrow, that countenance that death had

OUTSIDE the mansion, the moonlight showed a tall, spectral figure striding toward the road that led past the

hill. Burning eyes reflected the sky's glow as they turned upward. The Shadow saw the cupola of the tower

that spot from which bells of doom were toning their final peals, a paean of triumph that marked the death of

The clamor ended. Echoes faded from the summit of the belltower. Then a new sound rose clear upon the

night. More strident than the brazen clangor of the bells; more terrible than the monotone that had preceded

Sardonic tones rose to a weird crescendo. The laughter burst with shuddering mockery. The laugh ended

eerily. The wooded heights above sent back their echoes in uncanny mirth. Seemingly, a final throb formed a

Right had triumphed. Truth had gained its claim. A maker of evil had perished, hard on the heels of his evil

henchmen. Crime had ended with the battle in the crypt. Bells of doom had rung forth their last message.