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

CHAPTER I. CROOKS MOVE OUT .....................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. THE SHADOW VANISHES ...........................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. THE SHADOW'S SUBSTITUTE ..................................................................................9

CHAPTER IV. DEATH'S SILENCE....................................................................................................13

CHAPTER V. THE BROKEN TRAIL.................................................................................................16

CHAPTER VI. SNARES REVERSED.................................................................................................20

CHAPTER VII. WESTON WORRIES.................................................................................................23

CHAPTER VIII. A FAIR EXCHANGE...............................................................................................27

CHAPTER IX. THE FINGER POINTS ................................................................................................31

CHAPTER X. WITHOUT THE SHADOW.........................................................................................35

CHAPTER XI. CROSSED THRUSTS.................................................................................................38

CHAPTER XII. THE THIRD WEEK...................................................................................................42

CHAPTER XIII. THE SHADOW'S STORY........................................................................................45

CHAPTER XIV. CRIME'S NEXT STEP ..............................................................................................49

CHAPTER XV. CHANBURY DECIDES............................................................................................53

CHAPTER XVI. HENSHEW'S VISITOR ............................................................................................57

CHAPTER XVII. VANISHED SPOILS...............................................................................................60

CHAPTER XVIII. THE WRONG HUNT .............................................................................................63

CHAPTER XIX. FACTS FOR THE LAW...........................................................................................67

CHAPTER XX. MIDNIGHT MURDER..............................................................................................71

CHAPTER XXI. MOVES AT DUSK ...................................................................................................75

CHAPTER XXII. THE TRAP SPRINGS.............................................................................................79

CHAPTER XXIII. DEAD FACES ........................................................................................................82

"SHARK" MEGLO was staring coldly from his apartment window. His eyes carried a glint that matched the

glitter of the silver coin that Shark was impatiently tossing with his right hand.

Each click of Shark's thumb nail brought a ring from the half dollar. Spinning, the coin landed with a thwack

Shark's hard, longjawed face was known to the law. So was the fellow's cointossing habit. For months, the

police had been looking for Shark Meglo as the murderer behind the most serious wave of jewel robberies

The coin's spin ended with a final plop. Shark's thick lips framed an ugly smile. A man had stepped in from

the darkened street, to reach the lighted entry of the apartment house. Shark had recognized the fellow's face,

Soon, there was a rap on the apartment door. Shark admitted Hood and pointed to a small clock that stood on

a table. It showed the time as quarter of eight. Hood's puffy, pockmarked face showed apology.

"I know I'm late," admitted Hood. "Only it was no cinch getting word to all the crew. Anyway, the guys are

"Then we're set," interrupted Shark, in a hardsnapped tone. "The chink slipped me the message when he

Hood looked relieved. He settled into the best chair that the furnished apartment boasted. Shark began to spin

the coin again. Hood looked anxious. He expected a further announcement. It came.

"There'll be another rubout," grated Shark. "We can wise the crew when we get there."

Shark watched Hood coldly. He saw the lieutenant's worried air. After a few moments, Hood voiced a hoarse

"It's getting me jittery, Shark," declared Hood. "We've staged three jobs already keeping 'em three or four

weeks apart. That's smart stuff; but bumping the guys ain't! Whatta you want to croak those stuffed shirts for?

It don't cover us. Instead of being a bunch of jewel snatchers, we're labeled as a gang of masked killers. If it

"There's one guy it does cover," stated Shark. "The bird that sells the sparklers to begin with. It wouldn't be

Amazement spread over Hood's puffy face. Shark was juggling the half dollar as he watched his lieutenant.

"Cripes!" gulped Hood. "You told me there was a bigshot in the racket. I remember you saying we didn't

"Only you never figured we cashed in before we started," inserted Shark. "The cops haven't figured it either;

and that includes Joe Cardona, the wise bull that they call the ace police inspector. I've given you the straight

HOOD nodded his intention of so doing. His knowledge of the game was complete at last. Some jewel

merchant of high repute was behind the whole racket. That hidden bigshot sold high priced gems to dupes;

Shark grabbed the swag; it went back to the bigshot. Again the reputable jeweler, that mastercrook, sold

Murder was necessary; if a victim survived, he might name the man who had sold him gems valued at a

quarter million. Those transactions were confidential ones. Death could keep them quiet later.

"There's only one guy who could queer this racket," announced Shark. "That's The Shadow! It's on account of

Hood's pleased leer ended. Hood never liked to hear mention of The Shadow. Shark was right, The Shadow

could finish any game that left crime in its wake. Particularly, when men of high social status were

Crimeland knew The Shadow as a cloaked avenger who appeared from nowhere, to strike down murderous

underworld denizens. Though The Shadow's identity was unknown, it was conceded that he was a personage

That was why the murders of jewelbuying millionaires had carried more than usual risk. Hood knew that it

"Snap out of it, Hood," growled Shark. "Here, take this change the Chinaman gave me, and get me some

cigarettes up at the corner store. I'll be packing while you're gone. Take a gander at the lookout in the lobby.

Shark gave Hood the shiny half dollar. Leaving the apartment, Hood descended by the automatic elevator. In

the lobby, he nodded to a longlimbed fellow who sat in a little office. Hood knew the fellow; his name was

Whenever Shark took a new hideaway, he always posted Pinkey at lookout. Pinkey had wangled a clerk's job

The street was deserted, and that pleased Hood. The underling stopped outside the corner drug store and cast

a suspicious eye at a streamlined taxi that was stopping there. The cab looked empty, so Hood went into the

drug store. The cab driver alighted and entered while Hood was buying the cigarettes.

Just as Hood stepped away, the cabby asked the druggist to change a dollar bill. The man behind the counter

Returning to his cab, the driver took a sly glance at Hood, who was on his way back to the apartment house.

Once behind the wheel, the cabby reached to the connecting window. Holding the change that he had

A whispered voice responded. A blackgloved hand came through the window and took the change. Half a

minute later, the cab rolled slowly along the narrow street that Hood had taken.

As the taxi neared a darkened street outside the apartment house, the door opened noiselessly. An unseen

Hood had gone up in the automatic elevator. Pinkey was behind the office counter, eyeing the front door. He

let his gaze shift toward the elevator. Pinkey indulged in a wan smile; a swish, close beside him, changed his

Pinkey swung face to face with a surging, blackcloaked invader who had sprung in from the entry. He saw

burning eyes sheltered beneath the brim of a slouch hat. Long arms were stretching forward, driving gloved

WITH a snarl, the lookout tried to reach the inner end of the office, by the switchboard. He was pulling a

revolver as he sprang away; Pinkey thought that he could gain a shot before The Shadow produced an

With one long drive, the cloaked invader leaped the low counter. The Shadow's jabbing hands found their

target, Pinkey's neck. The lookout flattened beneath his cloaked opponent. As Pinkey's eyes bulged upward,

"Shark Meglo!" gasped Pinkey. "He he's up on the fourth floor 4 B! Hood Hood Bleeth's with him!

A buzz from the switchboard was interrupting Pinkey's blurts. The Shadow's fingers pressed beneath Pinkey's

chin, found the spot they wanted. The lookout slumped; his eyes shut as his body became limp. That skillful

treatment settled him into temporary unconsciousness, as effectively as if he had received a knockout punch.

The buzz from the switchboard ended before The Shadow could pick up the earphones and fake Pinkey's

Without delay, The Shadow cleared the counter and took to the stairway. He did not have to halt to pick up

Pinkey's passkeys. They were dangling from the senseless lookout's pocket. The Shadow carried them along

The stairs offered a more rapid route than the elevator, which The Shadow would have had to bring down

from the fourth floor. When he reached 4 B, The Shadow unlocked the door and shoved it inward. He twisted

There was no sign of Shark and Hood. A stir of wind through an opened window showed the route that they

had taken. They had called Pinkey to learn if the route was clear. Receiving no reply, the two had cleared

through the window, to the roof of an adjoining building, then down a fire escape.

When The Shadow reached the window, he heard the snort of a starting motor in an alleyway below. A high

wall made it impossible to stop, in time, the getaway that Shark and Hood were making.

They had taken most of Shark's luggage with them; but in their haste they had left a few items. There was an

unopened package of laundry in the corner. The table drawer revealed odds and ends that Shark had not

His gloves removed, The Shadow picked through an assortment of pencils, paperclips, paper and envelopes.

With those items was a small microscope. The Shadow held the tiny magnifying glass beneath the light. It

was powerful, despite its miniature size; the sort of glass that a watchmaker would use.

The laundry package in the corner gave The Shadow a connecting clue. From his pocket The Shadow

There was a whispered laugh from hidden lips as The Shadow's forefinger rubbed the surface of the new half

dollar and detected a slight roughness. It was on the tail side of the coin just beneath the eagle's beak; a

Using the powerful lens, The Shadow enlarged the view. The message appeared in letters that had been

PRESSING the wall switch, The Shadow extinguished the lights. A sibilant laugh whispered through the

darkened apartment. The Shadow chose the window as his exit. He reached the fire escape of the adjacent

It was just eight o'clock. The Shadow had one hour in which to anticipate new crime. Shark Meglo would be

due for a surprise when he attempted to deliver robbery and death. The Shadow no longer had need to seek

The Shadow had waited for an opportunity like this one. His plans were made; nothing, apparently, could

So The Shadow believed. Yet, within the next half hour, freakish chance was to produce a dilemma of a sort

TEN minutes after his departure from Shark's apartment, The Shadow was riding in the same cab that had

brought him to the killer's hideout. That cab was The Shadow's own possession; its driver, Moe Shrevnitz,

The Shadow was no longer an invisible passenger. His cloak and hat were packed away beneath the rear seat.

The lights of an avenue showed a calmfaced rider who wore evening attire. The Shadow had taken on the

character of a man named Lamont Cranston, a millionaire globetrotter. He was on his way to the exclusive

The Shadow had long guarded the fact that he used the identity of Cranston. It was not a fictitious

personality; there was a real Lamont Cranston, for whom The Shadow doubled. Cranston spent most of his

time abroad and kept his whereabouts unknown, so that The Shadow could appear in his stead.

Posing as Cranston, The Shadow had access to many important places. That helped him immensely in his

battles against crime. It kept The Shadow's real identity a complete mystery, even to his own associates. No

Tonight was to produce a chain of circumstances that would change all that. Though The Shadow did not

foresee it, he would soon have to adopt his own identity to best continue his incessant warfare against crime.

Riding to the Cobalt Club, The Shadow was thinking only of the message on Shark's half dollar. The Shadow

had suspected that a bigshot lay behind Shark's crimes. Some one who visited wealthy gem owners and

picked certain ones as victims. That bigshot, a man of supposed good standing, had given Shark orders for

The victim was to be a millionaire named Silsam. There was only one possible choice: Hugo Silsam, the

copper king. As Cranston, The Shadow had met Silsam; but had not known that the millionaire owned many

valuable gems. That, however, had been the case with all of the recent gem robberies.

The victims had been persons who had recently purchased rare jewels without making the fact public. Each

robbery and its attendant murder had revealed that the dead men were collectors. If Silsam ran true to form,

The Shadow knew the reason for that hour. Silsam was entertaining friends tonight, at his old brownstone

home on Madison Avenue. The affair was simply a dinner party; the guests would be gone by nine, thus

The figures that had accompanied the coin message obviously represented the combination of the safe at

THE cab reached the Cobalt Club. The uniformed doorman bowed as he recognized Lamont Cranston. The

tall, leisurely club member frequently used taxis around town, and kept his big limousine across the street

from the Cobalt Club. Cranston used the big car when he rode home to his New Jersey estate, late at night.

While the doorman was pointing out a parking space for the cab, The Shadow strolled into the club. The

attendant was busy at the desk and did not notice Cranston pass. With a slight smile on the lips of his

masklike face, The Shadow entered a telephone booth. He called the home of Hugo Silsam, and asked to

The name of Cranston worked like a charm. In a few minutes, Silsam was on the wire. In a quiet even tone,

The Shadow asked if Silsam would be at home, later in the evening. Silsam's dryish cackle delivered a

A slight murmur over the wire informed The Shadow that Silsam's guests were still present. Hanging up the

receiver, The Shadow left the telephone booth. Maintaining Cranston's unhurried style, he strolled out to the

Twentyfive minutes past eight. Plenty of time to reach Silsam's before nine o'clock and stay there until

crooks arrived. The presence of one guest would not cause Shark Meglo to postpone his thrust. Crooks would

The attendant was still busy at the desk, and The Shadow observed the fact. The fellow happened to look up,

just as Cranston went through the door; but he caught only a fleeting glimpse of the tall stroller's head and

Before the doorman could learn whether Cranston wanted his limousine or a taxi, a big official car pulled up

in front of the club. From it stepped a pompous man of military manner, whose broad features wore a

Weston ejaculated the brisk greeting before The Shadow could move away. Showing Cranston's slight smile,

The Shadow waited. A few minutes was all he needed to get rid of the police commissioner.

The time would be well spent, since the friendship between Cranston and Weston was one upon which The

Shadow frequently capitalized when he wanted information regarding the law's angle on recent crime.

"I have dined, thank you," smiled The Shadow. "I am on my way to keep an appointment. Suppose I meet

"Very well." Weston showed a flicker of disappointment. "I wanted to talk to you about those jewel

Weston purpled as he heard the question; then realized that it carried no sarcasm. Seriously, the

"No new robbery," he declared. "But I am worried, Cranston. Those crimes have occurred at intervals of

A shout from the corner interrupted The Shadow's quiet statement. A newsboy came into view, flourishing

early editions of the morning newspapers. Approaching, the newsie repeated his leatherlunged cry:

"Read about th' big plane crash! T'ree Americans injured! Big Croydon plane wreck! T'ree Americans "

Weston interrupted by buying two newspapers. He passed one to The Shadow. Spreading his own newspaper,

Weston read the huge headline that announced the wreck of an airliner leaving England for the Orient. A pilot

had been killed; seven passengers injured. Among the latter were three Americans.

Weston saw a heading over a row of photographs. It bore the words: "Americans hurt in Crash." Weston's

There, staring from the page was the face of Lamont Cranston; below it, the name of the very man for whom

Spluttering his amazement, Weston turned to speak to The Shadow, saying as he did:

WESTON cut himself short. He no longer saw his friend Cranston beside him. It never occurred to the

commissioner that his companion had noticed the photograph in the other newspaper. Nor did Weston realize

To Weston, the effect was that Lamont Cranston had vanished into thin air. Then the commissioner's

startlement ended. He decided suddenly that something was seriously amiss. He looked for the club doorman,

saw the fellow standing with a taxi driver, a short way down the street. With a bound, Weston went in that

Quick though he was, the commissioner did not hear the quiet words that came from the interior of the cab.

Only the doorman caught those instructions from the pretended Cranston. Nor did Weston see Moe's action at

The Shadow's taxi driver displayed a cupped hand that held some folded bills. The doorman nodded.

"Mr. Cranston?" queried the doorman. "Mr. Lamont Cranston? I don't recall seeing him, commissioner."

Weston pushed the doorman aside. He wanted to look into the cab, but Moe happened to be blocking the

"Where's the tall man who was here a minute ago?" demanded Weston, as he faced Moe. "He must have

"Nobody in this cab," assured Moe. With a shrug, he shifted aside. "Take a look if you want."

Weston yanked open the cab door. Looking for Cranston, he did not notice that the handle of the far door was

turning shut. Moe was right, the cab was empty. That was because The Shadow, donning cloak and hat, had

Staring streetward, Weston saw the limousine across the way. Triumphantly, he shouted:

Starting across the street, Weston could not see Moe slip a pair of twenty dollar bills to the doorman, who

nodded his full understanding. Weston's eyes were on Cranston's chauffeur, Stanley, who sat at the wheel of

Weston was coming from the street side. Stanley's head was inclined in the opposite direction. As Weston

arrived a black shape glided from the curb side of the car. Thrusting his face through the open window of the

Weston's anger was intense. He roared at Stanley, demanding to know why the limousine was at the club if

Cranston happened to be in Europe. Stanley informed him that Cranston's nephew was living at the New

Jersey mansion and had come into town this evening. Stanley had parked opposite the club because he could

Weston did not believe the chauffeur. Enraged, the commissioner yanked open the rear door of the limousine

and stared inside. Seeing that the car was empty he slammed the door and strode across the street.

Moe's cab was gone; Weston glared at the doorman as he went past. Stormily, the commissioner entered the

AROUND the corner, Moe was picking up a cloaked passenger. The taxi driver nodded as he heard new

instructions. The Shadow's plans were changed: he could no longer afford to go to Silsam's as Cranston.

There was time, however to use an alternate method that could block Shark Meglo's coming crime.

That was why The Shadow's lips delivered a whispered laugh for the benefit of Commissioner Weston. The

Shadow's ruse had been a necessary one. He had met an emergency with the utmost speed: and in so doing

The fact that there were two Cranstons was something that The Shadow intended never to reveal.

FIVE minutes after The Shadow had again become a passenger in Moe's cab, a young man received a

telephone call in his room at the Hotel Metrolite. The young man's name was Harry Vincent; most of his

acquaintances regarded him as a pleasant, keenmannered chap who had a comfortable income and therefore

In fact, Harry was frequently seen at some of the bright spots in Manhattan. That simply served to cover his

The call that came tonight was from The Shadow. It was relayed to Harry by Burbank, the contact agent

through whom The Shadow usually sent emergency instructions. Burbank's news was brief. Harry hung up

Twentyfive minutes of nine. Harry could get to Silsam's Madison Avenue home in ten minutes by cab.

Without bothering to change attire, Harry made a prompt departure from the hotel.

During the ride, Harry smiled at one fact he had learned. In service, Harry was the oldest of all The Shadow's

agents, with the possible exception of Burbank. Harry had long connected The Shadow with Lamont

Cranston, and had suspected that the two were sometimes one. At last, in this emergency, Harry had been

Harry's smile ended as he reviewed the circumstances that had produced tonight's mission.

The previous year had marked a large number of jewel robberies in New York. The police had slipped badly

in certain cases; it was The Shadow who had finally brought criminals to justice. Meanwhile, wealthy persons

They thought that was why crimes had lessened. From that belief had come new crime. A new group of

thieves had teamed murder with robbery. The secretive methods of jewel owners had made it almost

Three deaths in three months, each coupled with a huge robbery. The police blamed Shark Meglo. So did The

Shadow; but Shark was slippery. It had taken The Shadow a long while to trace him. Tonight was The

Police interference would bungle it. Shark knew how to dodge the law. The Shadow's one chance was to stop

Shark at the spot where crime was intended: the home of Hugo Silsam. Everything had been ready when The

That was why Harry was going as The Shadow's substitute, to watch events in Silsam's home. That did not

mean that The Shadow would be absent. On the contrary, he would be close at hand to stop the criminal's

thrust. Harry's part was to size the situation and give The Shadow word, when and where to enter.

GUESTS were coming from Silsam's when Harry arrived there; but the dinner party had not entirely ended. It

was quarter of nine; and Harry saw immediately that the house had not cleared sufficiently for Shark Meglo

Harry gave his name to the servant who admitted him. The man was evidently Silsam's butler, for his dryish

"That's all right," assured Harry. "I called him an hour ago, and told him that I was a friend of Mr. Cranston.

Harry laughed indulgently. He told the butler that Lamont Cranston was in Europe. As the man's face began

The butler decided that it would be best to usher the visitor into Silsam. The fellow led the way, and Harry

followed. During his talk with the butler, he had learned facts that he wanted, regarding the layout of the

The hallway was a long one. On the right, a broad doorway showed the living room, its deserted table

illuminated by candles that had burned down to small stumps. On the left was a living room, from which

Through the living room doorway, Harry saw the rear wall of the room itself. There was a closed door at the

That was where the safe would be; the strategic spot where The Shadow could await the murderous masked

A glance to the rear of the hallway gave Harry a view of a short passage that turned left. It certainly led to an

outside door at the side of the house; a perfect mode of entry for The Shadow; once he was informed of the

interior arrangement. Harry intended to supply that information in prompt order.

THERE were three men in the living room, all making ready for departure; but none answered the description

As Harry looked about, puzzled, the door opened from the study, proving the room to be as Harry pictured it.

The butler spoke to Silsam in an undertone. The elderly copper king scowled for a moment as he looked at

With an expression that he meant for a smile, Silsam shook hands with Harry. He introduced him to the other

guests; two of them departed immediately. While Wintham was showing them out, Silsam restrained the last

That guest was a tall, heavily built man, bluntfeatured and keeneyed. His name was Michael Chanbury,

Chanbury was a wealthy art collector; and Harry knew that he must be close to sixty years of age. In

appearance, however, Chanbury looked scarcely more than fortyfive. He had an active manner; his hair,

"I want you to remain, Chanbury," chuckled Silsam. "We are due to have another visitor."

"You mean Mr. Cranston?" queried Chanbury. "I understood you to say that he would be here."

"No, no," Silsam shook his bead. "Cranston will not be here at all. It was Mr. Vincent who called me, a while

ago. The mistake was mine. But" he fumed to Harry "you will have to help me explain it, Mr. Vincent."

"I called the Cobalt Club a few minutes ago," said the copper king, "to make sure just when Cranston would

arrive. When I asked for Cranston, who do you think came on the telephone? The police commissioner,

"Weston talked like a madman," added Silsam. "When he heard that I expected Cranston as I actually

thought I did he said that he would come here right away. He seems very anxious to locate Cranston, unless

SILSAM paused. His eyes took on a shrewd look. Abruptly, he motioned his companions toward the study.

Chanbury went first. Harry stopped to light a cigarette near the bay window of the living room. As he struck a

Unnoticed by either Silsam or Chanbury, Harry used one hand to wigwag a rapid signal, telling The Shadow

of the study's location. Harry was confident that eyes from the outer darkness had caught that quickflashed

With his lips, Harry added a soundless statement, as he looked toward the window. The words that he phrased

There was no time for more. Chanbury had entered the study; Silsam was waiting impatiently at the door.

Harry finished fake operations with the cigarette and joined the stoopshouldered copper king. They entered

A clock showed seven minutes of nine. Harry could picture The Shadow working on the side door, a process

that would require no more than five minutes. The Shadow would be inside when crooks gathered at nine. He

Weston's arrival might cause a hitch. Gathering underworld members might scatter if they saw the police

commissioner. On the contrary, a desperado like Shark Meglo might make a bold raid while Weston was

All that, Harry decided, hinged on the time element. Chances were that masked invaders would enter

Silsam stepped to a safe in the far corner of the study. He made quick turns of the dial; the safe door opened.

"You are an old friend, Chanbury," he said. "Since Vincent is a friend of Cranston's, I can trust him also.

Here is the reason why Commissioner Weston may have chosen to visit me tonight."

Silsam brought an ebony box from the safe and plunked it on a table. He opened the lid. Light shimmered

upon a resplendent array of gems. The green of emeralds vied with the red of rubies; and the collection

included some magnificent sapphires. Diamonds were plentiful, but less conspicuous.

The gems were mounted in rings and brooches of heavy gold. While Chanbury plucked items of jewelry to

examine them more closely, Silsam invited Harry to do the same. As he spoke, Silsam pressed a button on the

Almost immediately, Wintham appeared at the door from the living room, with the query:

"Yes," informed Silsam. "I am expecting Police Commissioner Weston. Usher him in here as soon as he

Wintham went through the living room. Silsam turned to the box of gems. In his pleased cackle, he declared:

"They are very valuable. So exquisite, that I could not refuse to buy them when they were offered to me."

The query came from Chanbury. Silsam smiled and shook his head. After a few seconds, he paused.

"The sale was confidential," he declared. "I promised not to name the seller. I feel sure, though, that I can rely

on both of you to maintain the same confidence. I purchased these gems from a jeweler named "

A SNARL interrupted. It came from the livingroom door; and the sound caused Harry and Chanbury to

In the doorway stood a longjawed man whose eyes were covered by a handkerchief mask. He was covering

the room with a revolver; flanking him were two other masked invaders, each with a pointed gun.

To Harry Vincent, that leader's mask was a mere sham. Harry knew the identity of the longjawed man who

Shark Meglo and his murderous crew had arrived to claim new swag. Striking before their own deadline, they

GRIM was the scene in Silsam's study. Voices had silenced with Shark's snarl; the only sound was the ticking

of the wall clock. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the dial. It showed three minutes of nine.

For a moment, Harry held hope that The Shadow had already entered by the side door; then that hope was

banished. Shark and his two followers shouldered into the study; when they were clear of the door, a fourth

man joined them. The fellow had the air of a lieutenant, and Harry correctly guessed that he was Hood

"I got a couple of torpedoes on each door," growled Hood, to Shark. "That oughta hold anybody who tries to

Shark showed an ugly grin of approval. To Harry, the news foretold disaster. If The Shadow did enter by the

side door, he would encounter waiting crooks. The Shadow could handle them, but not without gunfire. Shots

would start instant slaughter, here in the study. In fact, Shark chose to mention that very point.

"Hear that?" he demanded, facing the trapped trio at the table. "Any smart stuff and we'll rub out the three of

you! That goes if any of my outfit runs into trouble. One shot from anywhere, and it will be curtains for you

Shark's eyes showed their glitter through the slits of his mask. The killer's gaze centered on Hugo Silsam.

"I don't like your looks, crabface," snarled Shark. He juggled his revolver slightly as he spoke. "You remind

Harry caught the significance. Shark intended to murder Silsam because the copper king could blab the name

of the jeweler who had sold him the gems. Harry and Chanbury were in luck because Shark had interrupted

Since Shark apparently intended to let them live, he wanted to build up another reason for his planned murder

Death might be due at any moment; and Harry was unable to prevent it. The Shadow's entry by the side door

would only hasten matters, and Harry could no longer serve as The Shadow's substitute. Harry had a gun in

There were windows in the study; but Harry knew that they must be closed, although they were hidden by

drawn shades. The night was chilly; but the study was warm, sufficient proof that the windows were tight

What perplexed Harry most was how Shark and his band had entered despite The Shadow. Harry was to learn

Hood went out to the living room. He returned, marching Wintham ahead of him. With hands raised, the

"They knocked at the front door, sir," spoke Wintham. "They had me overpowered before I could give the

"It's all right, Wintham," returned Silsam unsteadily. "I don't blame you. They surprised us the same way."

HARRY noted Wintham's expression and knew instantly that the butler had lied. Wintham was faking it,

when he said that crooks had entered by the front door. There were too many of them. If they had come in by

Wintham was a traitor. He was working with Shark. The butler had let the crooks into the house long ago,

and had probably kept them in the darkened kitchen, with lookouts in the empty dining room. Nine o'clock

was the time set for attack; but the actual arrival of the crooks had occurred earlier.

Silsam's remark that Commissioner Weston was expected had caused Wintham to pass quick word. Shark

had not waited longer. He wanted this job to be finished when Weston arrived. The pretended capture of

Wintham was merely an alibi for the crooked butler. Wisely, Shark gave no inkling that he knew of Weston's

Stepping to the table, Shark eyed the box of gems. He tossed in pieces of jewelry that Harry and Chanbury

With that, Shark clamped the jewel box shut and thrust it under his arm. He looked at the clock and saw that

Hood had picked a fistful of papers from the safe. He gave a nod to Shark. The longjawed crook faced

"Still got a grouch, huh?" queried Shark. "All right, old sourpuss! You've asked for it!"

Coldly, Shark leveled his revolver straight for Silsam's heart. Terror registered itself on the old man's face;

but the expression brought no mercy from Shark. His finger was gripping the trigger. The moment for murder

Harry Vincent felt a sudden chill against the back of his neck. Ordinarily, he would have taken it for a

draught from an open window; at this moment he thought it an involuntary sensation that he could not

It was Harry's last chance to save Silsam. The move, in all probability, would cost Harry's own life.

With a hard jab of his left hand Harry reached Silsam's shoulder and sent the old man sprawling below the

With a harsh oath, Shark ripped away to aim straight for Harry. Other guns swung also, to deliver a withering

At that instant, a window shade snapped upward with a loud crackle. It stopped with a report as loud as a

shot. As crooks halted their aim, they heard a challenging laugh. With it, blackness surged over the low sill.

A cloaked form vaulted into the captured study. A gloved hand came up with a gun. Above the muzzle of the

The Shadow had sensed the situation inside the house. He had chosen a new route of entry. His arrival was a

THE SHADOW'S gun mouthed flame. An aiming crook slumped at the door. The fellow's companion fired;

Shark Meglo had aimed for The Shadow. The killer's shift had given Harry a chance to struggle with him.

Harry was bowling Shark toward the wall; if Shark wrestled free, he would be a target for The Shadow.

The same applied to Hood Bleeth. Before he could aim from his spot beside the safe, Michael Chanbury had

sprung upon him. Powerful of action, Chanbury had Hood in a plight that resembled Shark's.

It was Wintham who saved that pair of killers. The butler no longer tried to alibi his treachery. He made a

grab for the light switch beside the door. An instant later the room was in total darkness.

Guns spoke amid the gloom. Shark and Hood were twisting free from the men who gripped them, stabbing

shots at The Shadow's window. Harry and Chanbury could not stop them for darkness made the struggle

difficult. There were shouts from the living room. Reserve gunmen were dashing through to reach the study.

Then from the study door itself came the burst of two guns. Crooks went sprawling in their tracks. Amid the

roar of gunfire came the taunt of The Shadow's laugh. Darkness was The Shadow's habitat. He had used it to

Shark and Hood had spent useless shots. Their reserve crew was halted. Crooks went scurrying from the

hallway, choosing the front door as the quickest exit from the fierce foeman whom they could not see.

As they dashed to the outside air, there were shouts from the house front. New shots rang out.

Commissioner Weston had arrived, accompanied by representatives of the law. Scattered thugs were running

The Shadow was clear to settle matters in the study. Swinging about in the darkness he found the light switch

The glow showed Hood finishing a chance slug at Chanbury's head. The stroke was a glancing one, but it

The Shadow's hand finished a quick twist with a trigger tug. The automatic spoke before Hood could fire.

Harry Vincent had wrested clear of Shark Meglo. Harry's fist reached the killer's long jaw and Shark

sprawled to the wall beside the box of jewels that he had dropped in the struggle. Harry forgot Shark for the

The butler was aiming a tiny revolver; Harry fired quick shots to halt him. One bullet singed Wintham's

The Shadow had stooped toward the door. Twisting in upon Wintham, he hoisted the traitor high and

THE SHADOW was leaving Shark Meglo to Harry Vincent, during those moments. Harry wheeled to cover

the rising killer. Shark's bandanna mask had slipped down to his long jaw; his ugly eyes were in full view.

Jolted by his spill, Shark acted clumsily. He was more interested in regaining the box of swag than in taking

Before Harry could do more than cover the bewildered crook, old Hugo Silsam sprang from beneath the table

where Harry had pushed him. Silsam's face had a choleric look; he was trembling with an uncontrollable

The two wrestled by the opened window, with Silsam clawing for the jewel box with one hand, shoving

Shark's gun upward with the other. Harry was waiting for an opportune shot, when the struggle ended

suddenly. For no apparent reason, old Silsam became rigid. His bands lost their grip; tottering, he stumbled

Shark vaulted the window sill, carrying the jewel box with him. A prompt shot blasted from the doorway; a

bullet came hot from The Shadow's gun, straight for Shark's heart. Again, luck favored the murderous robber.

Shark was shifting the ebony box when The Shadow fired. The bullet hit the stout, metalbound coffer at an

angle. The slug was deflected. Shark was below and beyond the sill before The Shadow could loose further

Harry saw The Shadow speed across the room and spring through the window, hard upon Shark's trail. There

were puny shots from the living room; then louder blasts. Harry saw Wintham succumb to the bullets of

Stooping beside Hugo Silsam, Harry lifted the old man's head. One glance at Silsam's distorted face told

Harry what had happened. Silsam's mad, unnecessary struggle with Shark Meglo had proven too much for the

Unscathed by a single bullet, Silsam had suffered a stroke. His own overstrained efforts had produced the

Chance death had robbed Silsam's lips of the name that they had once tried to utter: that of the mastercrook

WHILE the law was taking control at Silsam's, The Shadow was keeping close on the trail of Shark Meglo.

The killer had been lucky enough to reach a rear street and contact a waiting touring car before The Shadow

could overhaul him. There was another vehicle, however, that stood ready for pursuit: Moe's cab.

Thus the chase began; and it led to narrow East Side streets, the touring car keeping well ahead. Moe was

driving shrewdly, while The Shadow, peering through the connecting window, kept on the look for coming

Given the right break, The Shadow intended to order a quick spurt. He was ready to wage lone battle against

Shark and the killer's accompanying crew. Odds never mattered to The Shadow when he had scummy

At heart, Shark Meglo was yellow; and his pals would be the same. They would be due for a quick finish, if

More was at stake than the swag that Shark carried. The Shadow was out to learn the identity of the

Shark was the only man who could reveal that wanted name. The Shadow had seen Silsam drop dead. He had

heard the barrage of police shots that felled Wintham. The Shadow, himself, had finished Hood Bleeth, the

Hence Shark, rather than the swag, was the prize that The Shadow wanted, although he intended to take both.

If need be, The Shadow would shoot down Shark's protectors, sparing the killer until he could get his gloved

Under such treatment, Shark would blab everything he knew. Murderous though the fellow was, he required a

The trail reached a slummy neighborhood. Moe's cab was staying well back, at The Shadow's order. Through

clever tactics, The Shadow had concealed the fact that he was on the trail. The policy suddenly produced

results. As the cab swung a corner, The Shadow saw the touring car stop, half a block ahead.

Moe doused the lights and pulled to the curb. Edging from the cab door, The Shadow saw developments

ahead. A man was stepping from the touring car. Though he tried to stay away from the glow of a street lamp,

the fellow's face was visible to The Shadow. So was the burden that the man lugged under his arm.

SHARK sneaked into the doorway of a dilapidated house. The touring car rolled away. There was no need to

The building was one of an old row. The houses were all three stories high and looked very much alike. As

Shark was clever at finding such ports of refuge; clever enough to have dodged The Shadow for several

Once inside the house, The Shadow's progress was uncanny. The house was an empty one; as he listened in

the darkness of the groundfloor hall, The Shadow could hear creaks from the stairs above. From them, he

By the time that Shark had reached the third floor, The Shadow was at the bottom of the last flight of stairs.

A door closed above. From the sound, The Shadow marked its exact location: at the rear of the thirdfloor

hall. Moving silently upward, The Shadow came to the door itself. There was a streak of light beneath it.

Listening, The Shadow heard a series of soft, tumbly thuds; then a lowmuttered oath. Wedging a tiny pick

into the keyhole, The Shadow found it empty. Shark had locked the door and pocketed the key,

While Shark busied himself inside the room, The Shadow noiselessly worked on the lock.

Shark finished first. His light went off. A few seconds later, The Shadow was turning the doorknob; he

pressed the door inward, with his same noiseless skill. The Shadow heard the closing of another door, on his

In absolute darkness, The Shadow closed the outer door behind him. He moved in the direction of the inner

door; against its surface, he used a tiny flashlight so guardedly that Shark could learn nothing. Sliding his

fingers down the door edge, The Shadow found the knob and reached beneath it. There was no keyhole.

That accounted for the bolt that Shark had shoved from the other side. It also meant that The Shadow could

Within a few minutes, The Shadow had completely learned the layout of the room. It was furnished, in poor

style, to serve as a tawdry living room. On the left was the solid wall that partitioned this house from the one

On the right was the door to the inner room, where Shark had gone; and when he passed that door, The

EXTINGUISHING his light, The Shadow approached the window. The shade was a battered one, yellowish

in color; hence The Shadow had carefully kept the flashlight away from it. With full darkness as his shelter,

The Shadow drew back the shade and raised the sash. Peering outward, he took account of surroundings.

Across the darkened rear alleyway was the roof of a garage that fronted on the next street. It had a fourfoot

wall around it, and its two floors were evidently both used for storage, for there were three old automobiles

on the roof. They were nothing but junk, stripped of tires and had probably been put on the roof because

Looking along the house wall, The Shadow saw the small window of Shark's bedroom. It was dark. Shark

had decided that a light was unwise. Moving through the living room, The Shadow stopped at Shark's door.

While that particular sound was almost indistinguishable, it told The Shadow that there was no time to lose.

He remembered the thuddy sounds that he had heard while listening from the hallway. They had occurred

There stood a narrow bookcase, built into a narrow niche. It was four shelves high and it was filled with

books. The Shadow could not picture Shark as a reader, particularly of the old, badly mauled classics that the

Nevertheless, Shark had been busy with those books. He had dropped a few; they had made the thuddy

Picking a shelf where the books had been tightly jammed in place, The Shadow carefully removed a few

volumes. He knew that this was the shelf where Shark had worked; in tugging at the books, the crook had let

some fall. Behind the books, The Shadow's tiny torch showed exactly what he expected.

Frayed edges of the wall paper gave evidence of a secret panel, poorly contrived. The Shadow's fingers

probed and found a hidden spring. It gave easily, for the spring was weak. Pushing the panel inward, The

The hole in the wall was a deep one, backed with grimy woodwork. Squatting in the center of the cache was

the ebony box that Shark had carried from Silsam's. Its carved front showed a long, chipped scratch. That

The Shadow's gloved hand raised the box lid. The flashlight shone into a plushlined interior. The velvety

cloth gave off a dull maroon color. Not a single glimmer caught the flashlight's glow.

IN an instant, The Shadow had the answer. The depth of the wallhole told the story. Shark had not removed

the jewels from the box. He had put the swag here intact. The back of this wall space was another panel, that

This third floor apartment was not a hideout. It was a special place that Shark Meglo visited after every

robbery, long enough to store away his swag. The hole in the wall was good enough to baffle searchers for

All the while that Shark had been coming to this transfer spot, the cunning mastercrook had been waiting in

Stolen gems were off on another round of adventure. In the hands of their scheming owner, they would be

peddled to some new dupe like Silsam and the victims who had preceded him. Once sold for a huge sum of

cash, they would repose in the custody of some new millionaire, slated for death when Shark Meglo

So far as the swag was concerned, The Shadow's efforts had been nullified, The Shadow knew also that the

master criminal had by this time cleared away from the house next door. The hand of that hidden crime chief

had probably stretched for the ebony box as soon as Shark had placed it in the connecting hole.

Carefully, The Shadow lowered the panel that he had opened. His thoughts were concentrated upon Shark

Meglo. Since this place was the transfer spot, Shark would have no reason to remain, unless he had been

Assuming that to be the case, Shark should either have stayed on guard in the living room, or kept watch

Instead, Shark had deliberately bolted the door of the inner room. That not only prevented him from keeping

guard; it put him in a room that had all the semblance of a trap. The situation did not fit.

The Shadow began to see other purposes in Shark's barricade. That was why The Shadow promptly noted

The coiled loop of a small wire poked into view. It went out of sight beyond the panel just as The Shadow

finally shut the hiding place That wire was connected with the house wall. Shark could easily have fixed it so

His torch extinguished, The Shadow listened. He heard sounds that he had not noticed while stooped at the

panel. Creeping noises, not from Shark's inner room, but from the hallway. A key was scraping slightly in the

With a quick sweep, The Shadow came back from the wall, out toward the center of the room. As he whirled,

the door from the hall rammed inward. Flashlights beamed from the outer gloom. Armed foemen were upon

the threshold. They were members of Shark's coverup crew, returned here to do battle.

The Shadow's trail was broken. Shark's flight had meant more than the delivery of swag to the mastercrook

THE SHADOW'S guns spoke the instant that the lights glared. In his twist from the wall, the cloaked fighter

had unlimbered a brace of automatics. Flashlights flew from hands as gunmen scattered for the shelter of the

One wounded thug sprawled through the doorway, just as darkness again covered the scene. The Shadow had

clipped the fellow's gun arm. Forgetting the wounded attacker, The Shadow spurted new shots toward the

There was a momentary lull; during it, The Shadow started forward. He was taking bold tactics, but the only

sort that would serve him. He intended to spring up from among his foemen; to cleave a path to the stairway

One crook blocked that maneuver. He was the rogue that The Shadow had clipped. Through a desperate

move, that wounded thug was to put The Shadow in a plight from which few fighters could ever have

Just as The Shadow neared the doorway, the room lights came on. With his left hand, the wounded man had

found the light switch. Sinking down to the floor, he snarled an oath as he saw The Shadow. The crook's

Shouts came from the hall as four torpedoes aimed their revolvers. Almost to the doorway, The Shadow was

too exposed to drop the four before they fired damaging shots. He made one of those remarkable shifts that

With a quick spin, The Shadow was back in the room, away from the door, whirling toward the window.

In those split seconds, The Shadow remembered the triumphant leer that he had seen upon the face of the

wounded thug. Three ceiling lights were glowing in the lowroofed room, showing The Shadow's cloaked

form plainly, even though he had spun to a safe angle. Face to the window, The Shadow saw something else.

His figure had blocked the glow of the ceiling lights. His own silhouette was etched in blackness against the

One glimpse of that outline told The Shadow why the thug had grinned. An instant later, The Shadow had

finished his whirl; he was turned toward the door, with his shoulders pressing the window shade behind him.

In that moment, The Shadow altered his plan. Instead of opening prompt fire toward the outer doorway, he

The wounded crook was out in the hallway; his pals were gone from view. None had waited to see The

Shadow's final move. They thought that he was still backed against the window. Then came the result that

A terrific crackle shattered the window, ripping the shade into shreds. From outside came the rattattat of a

machine gun as it rattled bullets into the lighted room. Those slugs slammed the wall of the hallway, past the

The Shadow had divined the double trap. He had made his drop just in time. The crooks attacking from the

hallway had been sent there to reveal The Shadow in the glow of lights. Machinegunners, waiting beneath

the parapet atop the old garage, were waiting for the telltale blackness against the window shade.

THE drilling barrage ceased. Perhaps the outside crew thought they had finished The Shadow; possibly they

were in doubt. The latter case was so likely that The Shadow could not afford to rise above the level of the

sill. Propped on both elbows, he began to worm his way forward toward the hallway.

A lookout poked his head into view, dodged away to report that The Shadow was alive and on the move. The

gunmen in the hall were none too sure of their own security. They knew, though, that The Shadow could not

afford a hasty drive. They feared that he might eventually reach the light switch, still below the level of the

The crooks had the method. Their first approach had been cautious; but with time to spare, they could make

Something thumped up the stairs. Shifting slightly to his right, The Shadow craned his neck.

He saw the weapon that the attackers were about to assemble. It was a submachine gun, with a shield.

Given a few minutes longer, they would shove that death device into the doorway. It would completely fix

The Shadow. His automatics could not riddle the shield. If he stayed close to the floor, the hallway gun would

Contrarily, if The Shadow made a dash to capture the new weapon, he would have no time to spike it. Again,

men from the garage roof would have a target. They would fell The Shadow through the open window.

The extent of The Shadow's future life seemed a matter of minutes. In that short interval, however, The

Shadow saw a chance for exit; one that his adversaries had forgotten, because they thought it completely

That route was the door to the little room where Shark Meglo had gone. Bolted from the other side, the stout

barrier looked impenetrable. With a head tilt, The Shadow eyed it. He edged toward that door; then waited

Scraping of steel told that foemen were shoving the submachine gun toward the doorway. A lookout took

another peek and dived away. The Shadow gave no further hesitation. With a quick spring, he came to his

The move was too swift for the outside crew. When they started a new rattle of their machine gun, The

Shadow was out of line. The bullets from the garage came zipping straight through the lighted room and

pummeled the hallway wall. The gunmen in the hall yanked back their submachine gun and laid low.

Even when the outside gun ended its brief drill, the men in the hall still waited. They wanted to make sure

that the barrage would not resume. The Shadow had depended on that interval. He knew that he would need a

THE SHADOW arrived at that barrier with one hand raised high. In his fist, he held an automatic by the

muzzle. Using the big gun as a bludgeon, he sledged a titanic blow for the panel of the door.

No woodwork could have stopped that slash. The panes splintered. The Shadow's arm went through.

As The Shadow's hand stopped short, it gave a slight upward toss. The automatic flipped in his fist; he caught

it by the handle. His hand swinging sideward, The Shadow pumped bullets into the room. Those were for

His last shot given, The Shadow dropped the automatic. His fingers found the bolt and yanked it. His other

Crooks from the hall had heard the crash, with the ensuing gunfire. As they sprang into the lighted room, they

saw The Shadow wheel into the darkness of the little room beyond. The door slammed as they opened fire.

When they halted, momentarily, a fist poked through the broken door and stabbed shots back at them. One

The inner room was empty. The Shadow learned that as he glanced about. The slight shaft of light through

the broken door gave him all the glow he needed. Shark Meglo had been too wise to keep himself boxed. The

ceiling showed the route that Shark had taken a trapdoor just above an old metal bed.

The Shadow clambered up to the trap. Shark had clamped it from above; but had done a hurried job, never

Bracing himself, The Shadow heaved upward with both arms. The rusted clamp gave. The way was open.

Across the alleyway, crooks had risen from their machine gun. They heard a challenging laugh above.

Looking upward, they saw The Shadow at the roof edge of the house, a full story above their level. No longer

was the garage parapet a protection. They had no time to tilt their machine gun. Savagely they yanked

The Shadow's shots were quicker. He sprawled the thugs by their parapet. Grabbing the roof edge with one

hand, he swung downward and outward; then, as he came inward like a pendulum. he released his grip.

The machinegunners had done The Shadow a favor when they had so completely blasted away the window

of Shark's living room. The Shadow came hurtling through that big opening at a downward angle. He hit the

floor almost among the thugs from the hallway, who had entered to start a drive through the door that The

To those gunners, The Shadow was a living nightmare, returned from blackness. He came from the one

direction that they did not expect. There was a mad scramble for the inner room to escape the shots that The

As his foemen finished their dive, The Shadow was at the hallway door, possessor of the submachine gun.

He slammed the outer door and locked it. The submachine gun went tumbling down the stairs, with The

Shadow following it. Sirens from the outside air told that the law was answering the alarm that gunfire had

produced. The police were at the front door when The Shadow reached the ground floor.

Choosing a rear exit, The Shadow was gone, slipping through a closing police cordon. He had left the rest of

LATER, The Shadow reached the hidden, darkened abode that served as his sanctum. There, he reviewed the

night's events. Shark Meglo had gained the loot he wanted, and that boodle had gone back to the

mastercrook. The man who engineered these crimes was still under cover. Nevertheless, his game was very

In the sanctum, The Shadow received a telephone report from Burbank. Harry Vincent and Michael

Chanbury were still at Silsam's. Both had testified that Hugo Silsam was just ready to tell the name of the

That connection was too obvious even for the police to miss. They would recognize that the jewel seller was

Intervals of a few weeks had always intervened between the former crimes. Certainly, a similar lapse would

again be necessary before the head of crime dared to move again. That prospect solved one problem that

pressed The Shadow. That was the matter of a new identity to replace his impersonation of Lamont Cranston.

The Shadow needed a guise that would serve him through the future; one which no one, even in wildest

fancy, would ever link with The Shadow. The Shadow had long reserved such an identity for the right time;

Agents could handle details of the immediate future. Knowing that, The Shadow gave instructions to

Burbank, in detail. The sanctum light clicked off. A strange laugh sounded in the darkness. That mirth

When The Shadow returned, he would come openly, without his garb of black. Often had he appeared in

public, using borrowed guises such as that of Cranston. This return would be unique.

At last, The Shadow had decided to arrive as himself. The Shadow would be unmasked at last!

FOUR days after the robbery at Silsam's, two men were discussing the details of that crime. One was

Commissioner Ralph Weston; the other, Inspector Joe Cardona. They were holding their conference in

Usually, the police commissioner was wont to argue with his ace inspector. Weston's brisk, military manner

conflicted with Cardona's style. Where Weston tried to be dynamic, Cardona maintained a pokerfaced calm.

Swarthy of countenance, stocky of build, Cardona had a way of listening to Weston's ideas without

committing himself. That was something that often irked the selfimportant commissioner.

Today, however, all was different. Weston's stare was far away. He sat silent while Cardona did the talking.

"We've gotten some results," voiced the detective ace. "We've linked the robberies at Silsam's with the past

ones. We found the place where Shark Meglo headed, after he got away with Silsam's gems. There was a hole

"Somebody picked up the gems from the house next door," continued Cardona. "Whoever he is, he's the big

shot. The only fellow who could name him is Shark, and Shark's made a dive for some new hideaway."

Weston's nods continued. It was Cardona's opportunity to drive home the wedge he wanted.

"I've got a hunch," spoke the ace. He paused, expecting a glower from Weston, who invariably disputed his

"My hunch is that the bigshot is the fellow who sold the jewels to Silsam. They're the same gems that were

stolen three times before, because the bigshot has been selling them over and over. Shark's job is to bring

Cardona stopped. For the first time, he realized that Weston hadn't heard a word. Something was wrong with

the commissioner, and Joe couldn't figure what it was. Settling back in his chair, Cardona waited.

After a minute, Weston suddenly realized that Joe had stopped talking. With a shake of his head, Weston

jerked his senses back to normal. He made a grimace which was his best attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry, Cardona," apologized Weston in a humble tone that was new to Joe. "My thoughts were

elsewhere. I'm worried, Cardona. Badly worried! I won't be myself until this trouble is off my mind!"

Joe looked puzzled. He had noticed that Weston had been in a hazy state, but had not supposed that the

"There will be a visitor in a few minutes," informed Weston. "After I've talked to him, I'll feel better. You

"Clyde Burke?" demanded Cardona. "Say, commissioner, you aren't letting that news hound in on this jewel

stuff, are you? We've been trying to keep what little we've got, strictly to ourselves. If Burke "

"No, no!" interjected Weston. "Burke is aiding me in another matter. I shall let you hear the details when he

A BUZZER sounded as Weston spoke. Answering the call, the commissioner learned that Clyde Burke was

outside. He ordered that the reporter be sent in. Soon, a wiry, leanfaced chap appeared in Weston's office.

Cardona knew Burke well, and liked him, even though there were times he didn't want the reporter around.

"Lamont Cranston is definitely in England," replied Clyde. "He left the London hospital yesterday and is

"Yes. Here is a radio photo that I ordered from our London representative. The shot shows Cranston, back at

Weston studied the photograph. It was Cranston, sure enough, with his head bandaged as a result of the

airplane crash. Weston sank back in his chair. His voice was hollow as he declared:

"But I saw Cranston! With my own eyes outside the Cobalt Club! And when Silsam called the club, he said

Weston's voice trailed to a worried mutter. For the first time, Cardona began to understand. He remembered

that the commissioner had made hazy comments regarding Cranston. He also recalled a conference between

It was obvious that the reporter had learned what bothered Weston and had promised to look into the matter.

After all, it was something that a reporter could handle better than the police. In fact, Clyde apparently proved

"It was Vincent who called Silsam's," explained Clyde. "He introduced himself as a friend of Cranston's; but

when Silsam called the club, he still thought that Cranston had been on the telephone. Vincent hadn't reached

"Was Cranston's nephew. The one that Stanley, the chauffeur, said was in New York."

Clyde shook his head. He produced another photograph. It showed a face very much like Cranston's, but

"Leroy Cranston," named Clyde. "From California. Nephew of Lamont. This picture was in the Classic files."

"Then this was the man I saw?" queried Weston. "But he recognized me, outside the club, and I had never

"He may have known who you were," smiled Clyde. "You mistook him for his uncle, but he did not have a

"Probably because he saw his uncle's photograph on the newspaper you handed him. He was alarmed; he

"But he didn't return to New Jersey. I called there repeatedly. The servants mentioned Cranston's nephew, but

Clyde produced a clipping that gave the names of passengers on a liner that had sailed from New York at

"Leroy booked passage immediately," declared Clyde. "He wanted to reach his injured uncle. By this time, he

WESTON'S smile was genuine. At last, the commissioner was satisfied. He called his secretary, to cancel an

appointment that he had made with a psychoanalyst. Weston had actually believed himself a victim of

hallucinations, and had decided that he needed the attention of a physician who specialized in treatment of

"You have my full thanks, Burke," commended the commissioner. "If there is anything that I can do in return

"There is," put in Clyde. "You can save me the trouble of taking a trip to Guatemala."

"Yes. You remember Kent Allard, the aviator, who was lost a dozen years ago? On that flight to South

"Better than that. They've located Allard himself! He landed in the Guatemalan jungle, and became the white

god of a tribe of Xinca Indians. A Xinca messenger has just shown up in Puerto Barrios, on the Caribbean,

with word that Allard is on his way back to civilization. The Classic wants me to go to Guatemala and meet

Clyde smiled. Cardona saw it and scowled. Joe knew what was coming, even though Weston did not.

"A good assignment for some one else," said Clyde to the commissioner. "I'd rather stay here in New York

"He means the Silsam case, commissioner," put in Cardona. "I saw what he was driving at. Listen, Burke"

Joe swung to Clyde "when we're ready to break these jewel robberies, you'll be in on it! But until then "

"Until then," inserted Clyde, "I'd like to be getting some advance dope. You know me well enough, Joe. I

wouldn't spoil an exclusive story. Let me in on it and I'll hold everything until you say the word go."

Ordinarily, Cardona would have returned a flat refusal. Joe was willing to take Clyde at his word; but he

preferred to work without a reporter at his elbow. Joe realized though, that he did not have the final say. If he

rebuked Clyde, he would be crossing Weston. This was the commissioner's chance to repay a debt to Clyde

"I am willing to grant the request," decided Weston, after a short consideration. "Of course, Cardona has

"I don't object," growled Joe, coming to his feet. He had noted that Weston's tone had resumed its usual

crispiness. "It's jake with me, Burke, since the commissioner says so. Since you're keeping mum, I'll go the

whole hog. I'm on my way right now to get some information I want. You can come along."

WITH a smile, Clyde bundled up the items that he had shown to Weston. He shook hands with the grateful

commissioner and went out the door with Cardona. As they reached the street, Clyde still wore the smile that

Clyde Burke was an agent of The Shadow. He had handed Weston wellconcocted details at The Shadow's

own order. The radio photo was actually one of the real Lamont Cranston. So, for that matter, was the picture

Clyde had simply dug up an old picture of Lamont, and had it retouched. Taken a dozen years ago, it showed

As for the clipping that named the steamship passengers, Clyde had faked that completely, with the aid of a

Pinchhitting for The Shadow, Clyde had accomplished two aims. The first was to settle Weston's mind

regarding the Cranston mystery; the second, to team along with Joe Cardona and learn any details regarding

So far, Clyde had done well. He was confident, moreover, that by going along with Cardona, he would run

into new opportunities. In that, Clyde was right. This very afternoon, he was to meet the mastercrook that

Unfortunately, neither Joe Cardona nor Clyde Burke were armed with suspicion. Both were to be deceived by

the subtle craft of the mastermurderer. Only The Shadow could have seen through the supercrook's guile.

But The Shadow, his one disguise useless for the time, was busy preparing another before he could get back

CARDONA and Clyde took a taxi at the nearest corner, and Joe gave the driver a Maiden Lane address. As

they rode along, Joe kept his promise to let Clyde have the details. He explained the first lead that the law had

"When Shark Meglo snatched those sparklers at Silsam's," stated Cardona, "Hood Bleeth was grabbing some

papers from the safe. Hood didn't get far with them. Here's one sheet we found on him."

Cardona produced a folded paper. It was a bill of sale, describing gems that Hugo Silsam had purchased. It

bore the heading "Oceanic Gem Co.," and gave the sum of Silsam's purchase as two hundred thousand

"The only trouble with this," admitted Cardona. "is that nobody knows anything about the Oceanic Gem Co.

There's only one man who might have some information for us. That's Madden Henshew, the international

Clyde knew that Cardona had gained documents at Silsam's; papers that Harry Vincent had not had a chance

to see. Clyde had also heard of Madden Henshew; for the jewel broker had long been in the news. A man of

high reputation, Henshew frequently arranged sales of famous gems. Whenever he did so, he furnished the

Henshew's office proved a busy one; several clerks were working at full speed and the clatter of typewriters

reminded Clyde of the newspaper office. All was quiet, however, when the visitors were ushered into

They were greeted by a portly, baldish man whose broad, serious face wore a stubbly brown mustache.

When they seated themselves, Cardona handed the bill of sale to Henshew. The jewel broker saw the name at

the head of the document. His lips pursed as he stroked his chin. Henshew had found a recollection. He called

a secretary; told him to bring the annual volumes of the East India Trade Review.

The books arrived. They were well bound, but compact. Henshew looked through a few; then found what he

"Here it is," he announced. "The Oceanic Gem Co., of Calcutta. Last listed in the 1933 annual. The concern

sold out during that year. This report, though, makes a fine showing. Prominent Britishers as officers. Large

assets listed. If a shrewd faker had shown a book like this to Silsam, it would have brought results. Silsam

Henshew closed the book as he spoke. It was Clyde Burke who observed that the cover bore no date. Clyde

voiced the opinion that Silsam would not have suspected such a volume to be an old one. Henshew concurred

"Jewel brokers handle sales confidentially," explained Henshew. "That could have deceived Silsam. The

swindler, however, could not be an important broker. Take this office, for instance. Every item goes through

a dozen hands. Our books are always open for inspection. When we hold gems, they are carefully listed when

they go into our vault. Other large houses do the same. Therefore, the swindler might be a man who knows

HAVING thus narrowed the field, Henshew advised Cardona to obtain lists of brokers who had recently

failed in business. He also suggested that Joe investigate small brokers who ran oneman businesses.

"Our profession has a high record for integrity," affirmed Henshew, "but I must admit that undesirable

persons sometimes creep into it. Occasionally we uncover impostors who pose as jewel brokers to cover the

"The brokerage association, of which I am vice president, does all in its power to bring such frauds to light.

You can count on our full cooperation, Inspector Cardona. If you come upon any doubtful persons, be sure to

As Cardona was about to leave, a telephone call came for him. Joe showed enthusiasm during his chat over

"It was Michael Chanbury," explained Cardona. "The art collector who was at Silsam's during the robbery.

He just had a call from a private detective named Tyrune. I know the fellow; Jim Tyrune. He represents a big

Henshew showed surprise as he commented, "Odd that you did not learn this before."

"It is," agreed Cardona. "Tyrune is calling on Chanbury, tonight, to get his statement as witness of the

robbery. Chanbury has called Vincent, the other witness, asking him to be there also. How about it, Mr.

Henshew consulted an appointment book, and decided that he could come to Chanbury's at nine o'clock. He

shook hands warmly with Cardona and Clyde and saw them out through the large office. When they parted at

"You're in on everything, Burke. That means you can show up at Chanbury's tonight."

"No need for it Joe," returned Clyde, with a friendly clap upon the inspector's shoulder. "You can tell me all

Clyde left Cardona dumfounded. For the first time in Joe's career, the ace had heard a reporter turn down an

invitation to be in on a conference that might mean news. It flattered Cardona to believe that Clyde was

willing to take Joe's word for whatever passed at Chanbury's. Therewith, Cardona lost all mistrust that he had

That was exactly what Clyde wanted. It happened, too that Clyde did not have to count on Cardona to know

what would occur tonight. Harry Vincent was going to be at Chanbury's. He would get the needed details.

Clyde was pleased with the way he had handled matters for The Shadow. The reporter was smiling when he

IT never occurred to Clyde that he had missed the biggest bet that had ever come his way. In thinking of

Madden Henshew, Clyde decided that the jewel broker was a "great guy" an expression that Cardona had

Events at this present hour were proving Henshew a gentleman of different ilk. Henshew had ridden from his

office in a taxi, and was alighting at a pretentious uptown apartment house. There was an eagerness about his

actions that explained itself when Henshew reached his elaborately furnished apartment.

There, Henshew went to a large oak bookcase that was built into a corner alcove. He drew out some large

volumes that were bound in fine morocco. Behind the books was a panel, much neater than the one that The

Shadow had uncovered at the old house that he had raided, but of similar workmanship.

These jewels were the loot from Silsam's; but this hole in the wall was a oneway affair that could be reached

From his cache, Henshew extracted a heavy finger ring, set with emeralds and diamonds. He took it to a

writing desk close by. He turned on a strong light; adjusted a lens to his eye. With pincerlike tools, he began

While Henshew was at work, a buzzer sounded a signal, in short quick jabs. Henshew listened; the signal was

repeated. Chewing the thick lips beneath his mustache, Henshew put away his work and went to the door. He

quickly admitted a man who was crouched there; then glowered at his visitor when they reached the light.

"You shouldn't have come here," gritted Henshew. "I told you to stay in the new hideout and await a

"I had to come," returned Shark. "We can't use the chink again. There's a guy looking for him."

"You'll believe me, chief, when you hear how I've figured it. There's only one way The Shadow could have

got wise to that Silsam job. Hood spent the half dollar for me at the drug store. The Shadow must have picked

"By the laundry I left in the hideout. Only Moy Ming was smart enough to close out his old laundry shop.

Henshew was forced to agree with Shark. He asked for a description of the snooper. Shark gave one that

"I only took a quick gander at him," informed Shark, "but he sure looked like the mug that tried to hand me a

"Forget Moy Ming," decided Henshew. "I shall find another way to send messages to you."

THE jewel broker went back to the writing desk. Shark followed and stood by while Henshew continued his

In expert fashion, Henshew began to cut the corner of a green stone, talking all the while in a low tone. He

"I guess that washes us up," he said. "The racket's getting too hot. Hood should have snatched that bill of sale

"The description was not very exact," remarked Henshew. "Anyway, the insurance company will have a

Picking a narrow platinum brooch from a pigeonhole in the writing desk, Henshew placed the recut emerald

between two oddshaped rubies that were already set. He held the piece of jewelry into the light. He

"Say!" Shark's tone was tinged with admiration. "You're fixing those sparklers so nobody would know them!"

"Like I have on every occasion," stated Henshew. "Silsam was not the first of our customers who showed his

purchases to friends. He happened to be the only one who had time to insure his gems."

"That's made it jake, every time! That's a smart one, chief. You won't be taking a chance if you peddle the

"You mean when I sell the gems again," he told Shark. "That time will come very shortly. Meanwhile, Shark,

Henshew saw his visitor to the hallway. The route was open to a fire tower where Shark could leave

"Today," said Henshew, "I gave Inspector Cardona some advice. In return, he told me about the insurance

matter. It was a fair exchange; and there is an old saying that a fair exchange is no robbery."

Henshew closed the door as he stepped back into his luxurious apartment; and Shark caught the supercrook's

The fair exchange that Henshew mentioned was one that would result in robbery. Like Silsam and the dupes

AT eight o'clock Madden Henshew ended his tedious process of cutting and resetting gems. He put away the

jewelry that he had altered and studied the large number of items that remained. Henshew estimated that he

Henshew had been running crime on a threeweeks schedule. First the sale of the gems, to some unusually

wealthy person who could afford a price of close to two hundred thousand dollars. Never any trouble about

that; for any one who knew jewels could see that these stones were worth more than a quarter million at

Next, a quicktimed robbery, engineered by Shark Meglo, soon after the gems were placed. Henshew always

paved the way for that grab, even when it meant the corruption of some trusted servant in the victim's

After the robbery, the gems came back to Henshew. They always found repose in the cache behind the

bookcase. An expert at cutting and resetting gems, Henshew always revamped them himself. Thus he avoided

the very danger that he had mentioned to Joe Cardona: the exposure that would surely come to any jewel

dealer who kept a hoard of stolen gems in a vault to which employees had access.

There lay the smartness of Henshew's game. His legitimate business was in the best of order. It showed him

more than a hundred thousand dollars, in clear profit, annually. But Henshew considered that small change

These gems that he kept at his apartment, were prizes that he had stored away year by year, until their value

totaled more than a quarter million dollars. They were the bait that brought him a monthly return of two

hundred thousand. Six months of it Henshew would be past the million mark, and have his jewels to boot.

Henshew had long anticipated a visit from the law. It had come today; and he had handled it to perfection. He

had hoodwinked Joe Cardona, New York's ace sleuth, and Cardona had thanked him for it.

Clever stuff, steering Cardona after a mythical criminal whom Henshew had described as his own opposite.

Cardona would hunt for some faker who had been a failure as a broker; not for a successful man like

Cardona had swallowed Henshew's glib suggestion. So had that wisefaced reporter Burke. Clyde was just

The sour note was Harry Vincent. Who was this fellow Vincent? He had been smart enough to look for Moy

Ming, Henshew's messenger who contacted Shark. Whoever Vincent was, he knew too much. Henshew

Henshew made a quick change into a tuxedo, then came back to his writing desk. Fitting a magnifying lens to

his right eye, he used a tinypointed engraving tool and scratched a microscopic message on a half dollar.

During the ride to Chanbury's, Henshew thought of The Shadow and ended his speculations with a laugh of

dismissal. The Shadow was nothing more than a masquerader who shot it out with crooks. He had bagged

Shark was too smart for The Shadow. Since Henshew considered himself smarter than Shark, it followed that

CHANBURY'S mansion was on Long Island. It was big, pretentious, well isolated. Henshew entered to find

that house sprinkled with bowing servants. He was ushered down a long flight of marble stairs through a

A smiling girl introduced herself as Miss Merwood, and said that she was Chanbury's secretary. She was a

pronounced brunette with dark eyes that had a dash of languor. Henshew gave her a chummy smile as she led

The room was square with oakpaneled walls. It was adorned with large portraits of cavaliers and

rufflenecked courtiers who stared from the walls like silent observers of the living persons present. The

furniture was heavy and expensive, but comfortable. Like all of Chanbury's belongings, it spoke of wealth.

That pleased Henshew. He began to consider Chanbury as a future prospect in the jewel market.

Joe Cardona was present. He introduced Henshew to Chanbury, then to Harry Vincent. Henshew eyed The

Shadow's agent steadily; then turned to meet a tall stoopshouldered man. This fellow was Jim Tyrune, the

Henshew promptly classed him a glorified snooper who fancied himself a firstrate criminal investigator.

The secretary was waiting at the doorway. Chanbury gave a nod of dismissal. When the girl had gone he

Henshew smiled; but decided that he would control his facial expressions in Chanbury's presence. The art

"She is very competent and loyal. Her name is Eleanor Merwood. Her uncle was an old friend of mine.

"The fellow who committed suicide?" spoke up Tyrune. "After he found out that half his art collection was

"Yes," replied Chanbury. "Poor Stanley! How often I advised him not to buy paintings that he thought were

genuine. I can tell a fake picture by the smell of its oil. I warned others too, who would not listen. But let us

In his subtlest fashion Henshew dropped the question: "You collect jewels also, Mr. Chanbury?"

"Yes," returned Chanbury. "I think that is why Silsam insisted upon showing me his gems that night when the

robbery occurred. It is too bad that Silsam died, after Vincent had driven off the crooks."

Harry smilingly accepted credit. Chanbury had been groggy at the time The Shadow struck the hardest blows.

To Henshew, Harry's smile meant much. It supported the crime leader's theory that Harry was working with

With the subject definitely centered on Silsam's jewels, Joe Cardona asked Henshew to repeat his statements

of the afternoon. Henshew did so in his most convincing fashion, looking from man to man as he spoke.

Cardona was as impressed as before; and Tyrune agreed with everything that Henshew said.

Seeing that he had the police inspector and the private detective clinched, Henshew watched for the effect

Michael Chanbury appeared to be taking everything at the face value that Henshew gave it, although the art

collector showed very little expression. Harry Vincent, however, was visibly sold on Henshew's opinions. It

was not long before the crooked jewel broker knew absolutely that he could number The Shadow's agent with

"You've paved the way for us, Mr. Henshew," declared Cardona, in a complimentary tone. "We're going to

turn New York inside out, until we've found the crook we're after. We'll quiz every fake jeweler in the city!"

THAT decided, Cardona asked for Tyrune's list of Silsam's gems. It tallied quite closely with the bill of sale

that bore the name of the Oceanic Gem Co. Henshew compared the lists himself and expressed the opinion

"Make these public," he advised. "In that way, you will prevent further murder."

Again, Cardona thanked Henshew for giving an excellent suggestion. Inwardly, Henshew felt new elation.

His gems, when he was through with them, would be far different from the jewels that were under suspicion.

Chanbury raised the only point that worried Henshew. The art collector asked Tyrune the full value of the

stolen jewels. The private dick replied that Silsam had insured them for two hundred thousand dollars. An

appraiser from the insurance company had allowed that value, after inspecting the stones.

Henshew knew at once that the appraiser must have recognized the true worth of the jewels as at least a

quarter million. If the point had been pressed, it would have brought a discussion concerning the feature that

enabled Henshew to make his quick sales; namely, his method of offering the jewels for much less than they

Chanbury, however, was satisfied with Tyrune's statement. The matter was promptly dropped.

The conference ended. Chanbury ordered drinks; and every one indulged in other talk. During the

conversation, Henshew kept listening for one fact he wanted. At last he heard it while Chanbury was chatting

with Harry Vincent. The fact popped out that Harry was living at the Hotel Metrolite and intended to go there

It was not long before Henshew glanced at his watch and decided that he must be returning home. Chanbury

summoned Eleanor and told her to call a cab. As he shook hands with Henshew, Chanbury remarked, with a

"Silsam's experience may deter some persons from buying gems. To me it simply repeats the old lesson: be

sure with whom you deal. Which means, Mr. Henshew, that when I am in the market, I shall call upon you. I

Henshew was profuse with thanks. He even forgot to greet Eleanor with an ogling smile, when she came to

ONCE in the taxi, Henshew rode to Manhattan to Times Square. There, he chose another cab and gave the

driver an East Side address. Henshew's new destination was close to Shark's present hideout.

Leaving the cab, Henshew waited near a dully lighted corner until he saw an approaching newsboy. He

The newsie didn't. He wanted to make the sale though. Henshew looked to the second story above a darkened

"I guess that's where the owner lives," he said. "He's still up. Take this half dollar and ask him for change."

The newsboy went up a darkened stairway. Henshew shifted away, ready for a run. The place was Shark's

hideout; and Shark was apt to use a gun if he felt jittery. That explained why Henshew had chosen not to rap

There was a threeminute wait. The newsboy returned with the change including some pennies. Henshew

bought the newspaper and walked westward to find another cab. His next move was to return to his apartment

as promptly as possible and call in some friends who lived in the same building.

Henshew always had an alibi for himself on those nights when Shark set forth murderbound. Tonight,

The half dollar that Henshew had dispatched to Shark was a death warrant, made out for Harry Vincent!

WHEN Harry Vincent reached the Hotel Metrolite, he had no inkling that he was in for trouble. In fact Harry

was completely lulled by circumstances. Like Clyde Burke he had been bluffed by the story that Madden

Harry agreed with the jewel broker that the mastermind who controlled Shark Meglo must be a person of

doubtful repute. As far as Harry could see, there was no direct lead to that extraordinary criminal. Joe

True, Shark Meglo could provide facts; for Shark probably knew who the bigshot was. But finding Shark

was a problem in itself. Shark possessed one ability that had rendered him invaluable to the supercrook who

used him. That was Shark's skill at keeping out of sight. Even The Shadow had found it difficult to trace

One fact was obvious. The dial of death had began another circuit. The Silsam robbery had been one of a

chain, always with those three week intervals. The next case would come within another few weeks, unless

Somewhere in Manhattan was another millionaire slated to become a murdered dupe like Silsam and the

Joe Cardona was planning to make public a description of Silsam's gems. That might crimp the murderer's

game. There was a chance, though, that the mastercrook could outsmart the law's measures. If he did, there

Harry's chief would be back in New York before the deadline. That pleased Harry. He was confident that The

Shadow must have divined hidden facts in this chain of death. Perhaps there was a peculiar reason why the

robberies had been staggered three weeks apart. If so, The Shadow had certainly unearthed it.

HARRY'S speculation was correct. The Shadow had actually analyzed Henshew's methods of altering the

gems for each new sale. That was why The Shadow had been willing to take a few weeks of absence from

It happened, though, that The Shadow had not yet gained a trail to the jewel swindler. That was something

The thought rankled Harry Vincent, while he was unlocking the door of his hotel room. Harry felt that he had

failed The Shadow. There was a lead to the head criminal; one which the law did not suspect. That lead was

Moy Ming, the missing Chinese laundryman; and it had been Harry's job to trace Moy Ming. Harry had been

Harry's answer was yes. That troubled him all the more. His face was glum when he turned on the light of his

hotel room. Seating himself in a chair, Harry began to speculate on methods whereby he could track the

The telephone bell rang. Harry answered. In response to his hello, he heard a guttural voice inquire:

"De shoemaker. Next door to de Chinese laundry. I close de shop for de night; but I find out something

Harry remembered the shoemaker. He had chatted with the fellow and had promised to send over a pair of

shoes to be repaired. He did not recall mentioning that he lived at the Hotel Metrolite, but decided that he

Harry had told the shoemaker that he had left some laundry with Moy Ming and that it had not been

delivered. That had been sufficient explanation for Harry's desire to find the Chinaman.

"About Moy Ming." The voice was thick, but eager. "I find heem for you! He come by when I close de shop!

The voice gave it; Harry made a notation of it. He thanked the caller and finished the conversation. He

decided that the shoemaker must have called from a public pay station. The repair shop had no telephone.

His hand upon the doorknob, Harry remembered something. Rules called for a report to Burbank. It seemed

unnecessary tonight, since The Shadow was distant from New York. Nevertheless, the routine was a

Harry picked up the telephone and called Burbank's number. A methodical voice responded. Harry told the

WHEN he left the Metrolite by taxi, Harry looked through the rear window. He saw another cab starting just

as his taxi turned the corner. For a while, Harry thought the second cab might be trailing him. At last, it was

Harry's cab veered to a side street. It reached Sixth Avenue and rolled between "el" pillars. A block farther

on, Harry looked back to see a couple of cabs in sight. It wasn't far to Moy Ming's new address, so Harry

As the cab stopped, Harry was ready with the change. Dropping off, he took quickly to the side street. He saw

the cab roll ahead and no others stop at the corner. Harry decided that he had not been trailed.

Moy Ming's new place of business occupied a tiny basement. It was dimly lighted and Harry saw a Chinaman

The Chinaman swung about and eyed him narrowly. Though Harry had no way of identifying Moy Ming, the

Perhaps the suspicious glance was given because Harry had no laundry bundle, nor was he recognized as an

old customer. It was easy to settle that point. Harry informed that he lived near the new laundry and intended

to bring wash there if the proprietor could make the price right and guarantee good work.

Immediately, the Chinaman became voluble. He leaned across the counter and bragged in singsong English.

"My namee Moy Ming," he proclaimed. "Me do washee better than other Chinee boy. Better than any

Moy Ming seemed genuinely anxious to make a new customer. He lifted a curtain that hung in a small

doorway and nudged his thumb toward washing machines in a lighted rear room. He wanted to show Harry

his equipment; and Harry decided to take a look. It was a good way to get acquainted with Moy Ming.

Harry stepped through the doorway and Moy Ming followed. The Chinaman paused to slip the curtain back

in place. His action was natural; Harry did not suspicion it. But he heard something that puzzled him. It was a

Harry turned. He saw Moy Ming's fingers on a button. A heavy door was sliding shut to block the exit. It was

on the inside of the curtain which kept it hidden from the front room. Moy Ming was transforming this rear

MOY MING'S one mistake was remaining inside the room with Harry. The Chinaman expected trouble on

that score; for he whipped out a knife as Harry turned toward him. Moy Ming was quick; but Harry

Before Moy Ming could threaten with the knife, Harry had pulled an automatic. Moy Ming recoiled as Harry

covered him. That was just what Harry wanted. He jabbed his free hand for the Chinaman's wrist and caught

Moy Ming tried to squirm away. Harry tugged the Chinaman's arm in back of him and bent the laundryman

Moy Ming grimaced. He tried to show ignorance. Harry's grip tightened on the Chinaman's arm. Moy Ming

writhed his lips and uttered inarticulate sounds as if too tortured to phrase the name that Harry wanted.

Harry sensed fakery in the Chinaman's method; but he thought that Moy Ming was merely trying to stave off

That gurgle was a coverup for more than Moy Ming's thoughts. Uttered in Harry's ear, the sound drowned

other noises. Big washing machines were being slowly shoved from their corners. Moy Ming could see them;

Two huge Mongols bobbed from their hiding places behind the washing machine. They were no longer

Harry heard them as they sprang. He pitched Moy Ming to the floor and swung to meet his new adversaries.

The Mongols were weaponless; they were depending upon their big hands to smother Harry to the floor.

In that instant Harry made a good copy of The Shadow's fading tactics. With a twist, he was away from the

clawing hands. Backed to the corner beside the closed door, Harry dropped to one knee and aimed his gun at

the attacking pair. He would have had time to drop them in their tracks, had it not been for Moy Ming.

Sprawled almost at Harry's elbow, the Chinaman propped himself quickly with his hands and reared his head

like a striking serpent. His wideopened mouth descended upon Harry's gun hand. Teeth sank into Harry's

fist. Moy Ming shook his head to one side and carried Harry's aiming hand along.

Before Harry could offset Moy Ming's tactics, the Mongols landed. Harry sprawled upon the floor; his gun

slipped from his hold. Moy Ming's bite eased up. There would be no more trouble from Harry Vincent.

ARMS pinned behind him, Harry was shoved to his feet. Staring toward the rear of the room, he saw a door

open. Into the light stepped Shark Meglo, followed by a pair of thugs new followers whom he had recently

Seeing that Harry was helpless, Shark motioned the two outside. When they had gone, he bolted the heavy

Harry realized that Shark must have spotted him outside of Moy Ming's old place; that it was Shark who had

faked the shoemaker's call. What Harry could not figure was how Shark had learned that he lived at the Hotel

Shark had gained that news by a telephone call to Henshew's apartment, soon after he had received the

inscribed half dollar from his chief. The message had said for Shark to handle Harry. All Shark needed was

To Harry Vincent, such facts were unimportant at the moment. He could see the murderous glint of Shark's

eyes; he knew that killer again intended to deliver death. This time, Harry was to be the victim; and doom

In the past, Harry had been pulled from snares like this; but always, rescue had come from The Shadow.

This capture had come during The Shadow's absence. Any chance that Harry might have for life, would have

SHARK MEGLO did not intend prompt death for Harry. That was apparent through the orders that he gave

to Moy Ming and the Mongols. Moy Ming became active, while the big captors still gripped their prisoner.

As Harry stared, he saw Moy Ming pull two broad ironingboards from the wall and set them end to end.

Next came big clotheswringers. Grinning like an ape, the Chinaman clamped the wringers to the far ends of

the boards. Shark dug in a corner and found some odd lengths of rope. He brought them to Harry's captors.

Harry started a valiant battle. Moy Ming had to pitch in, clawing furiously, before The Shadow's agent could

be subdued. At last, Harry lay prone on the floor, under the bulk of the Mongols, while Shark and Moy Ming

That done, the Mongols hoisted the prisoner and laid him face upward on the ironingboards. They held him

stretched on the improvised table while Shark affixed the wrist ropes to one wringer, and Moy Ming attached

the ankle cords to the other. Both wound the wringers until the ropes were taut.

Harry could feel the strain. His ankles were drawn one direction, his arms pulled full length above his head,

were stretched the opposite way. Moy Ming, Shark's crafty tool, had transformed ordinary laundry equipment

Shark turned the wringers over to the big Mongols. With Moy Ming beside him, Shark went to the center of

the room and viewed Harry's strained face. The snarl that Shark gave was not pleasant. He raised two fingers;

wagged them, so the Mongols could see. The huskies slowly tightened the wringers, each in an opposite

Harry's arms tugged at their sockets. His ankles felt ready to crack. Shark stopped his wigwag. The men at the

"Don't feel so good, does it?" sneered Shark, as he faced Harry. "A little tighter, it'll feel worse. That's what

"Don't try to kid me," he snorted. "You were at Silsam's! So was The Shadow! You were working for him!

Harry chewed his lips. He knew what silence meant; more torture, until his bones would snap. Moy Ming had

hooked the ironingboards so that they would not buckle under strain. The clotheswringers were heavy

enough to haul a ton weight, under the leverage that the big Mongols could give the long handles.

Harry felt that he was through. The sooner death came, the better. The best way to start the finish was to

Harry turned his head away, looked for some chance object upon which he could concentrate his gaze. He

wanted anything that would help him hold his thoughts away from the racking pains that would soon tear

THERE was a small window in the rear wall, just below the ceiling. It had no shade; that indicated that the

window must be below the level of a small courtyard. Probably the space outside the window was topped by

a grating. Neither Shark nor Moy Ming supposed that any one could peer into their torture chamber, through

Shark was glaring at Harry. Moy Ming was copying the stare. The Mongols were silently waiting at the

wringers. Only Harry looked to the window, hence the prisoner alone saw the face that suddenly appeared

It was a wizened face; pale but foxy. It pressed to the pane, its little eyes shifting everywhere, to make sure

that no one but Harry was looking in its direction. Once the quick eyes met Harry's, the face shifted away.

With an effort, Harry repressed the smile that tried to force itself to his drawn face. Rescue was at hand. He

The peering man was "Hawkeye," a crafty agent who prowled the underworld in search of information for

Hawkeye was teamed with Cliff Marsland, a husky chap who had a reputation in the badlands. Gangdom

classed Cliff as a crook and a killer. Actually, Cliff was working for The Shadow.

Silently, Harry thanked himself for remembering that routine call to Burbank. Like other active agents, Harry

sometimes failed to consider the dangers that might lurk in simple missions, such as this visit to Moy Ming.

Burbank, filling long, dreary hours at his contact post, had a habit of weighing all details that were passed to

him. When absent, The Shadow depended upon Burbank much more than the other agents supposed.

Burbank's methodical mind had worked promptly after Harry's call. Burbank had decided that if Harry's

mission proved simple, the presence of Cliff and Hawkeye could do no harm. Should things go wrong as

they had the other agents would be necessary. So Burbank had called them to give instructions of the sort

Into Harry's thoughts came an interruption that seemed very far away until Harry snapped from his reverie.

Shark Meglo was snarling new threats. They were final. Harry turned his head to meet Shark's glare.

His fingers had come up. The Mongols were starting pressure on the handles. As the new strain tormented

SHARK halted the torture. Harry gave a groan. Shark made the Mongols release their pressure. Harry settled

loosely on the ironingboards. The strain ended, he could feel that he was intact. All he had to do was bluff

"I'd tell you about The Shadow if I could," falsified Harry. "I never saw him not before that night at

Silsam's. It was afterward that he came to me, to tell me about Moy Ming. All that he wanted was to learn

Above Harry's words came an interruption that made Shark whip away. Revolver shots had sounded, from

somewhere outside the building. The reports chilled Harry; for he thought that Cliff and Hawkeye must have

Shark yanked out a revolver and sprang toward the rear door. Ready for departure, he pointed to Harry and

Out came Moy Ming's knife. The lean blade gleamed above Harry's eyes while the Mongols kept the rope

taut so that the prisoner's heart lay open to the assassin's thrust. Harry did not flinch; he watched the knife

point coolly. After all, he had expected death; and the blade would be quicker than the rack.

A crash riveted Moy Ming; held him, his hand still upraised while his almond eyes darted in a new direction.

Husky hands had cracked the little window near the ceiling. The frame was toppling into the room, glass and

The little man hit the floor along with the smashing window frame and took a bounding leap that would have

"Get Vincent!" snapped Shark. "Finish him, Moy Ming! I'll take care of this mug!"

Shark aimed for Hawkeye but the human rabbit was away, beyond a metal laundry tub. Shark's bullets

clanged steel. Moy Ming however had time to follow Shark's order. He poised again and drove the knife

An automatic stabbed from the space where the window had been. Harry saw Cliff Marsland fire that shot.

Steady of aim, pokerfaced in expression, Cliff delivered the needed dose. His bullet took Moy Ming in the

The slug from Cliff's .45 carried an impact that jolted the knifejabbing Chinaman. Moy Ming lurched, his

stab went wide. The blade buried in the edge of the ironingboard, at Harry's shoulder. Moy Ming slumped to

Hawkeye was answering Shark's fire. The odds favored Hawkeye, for he had cover and Shark was in the

open. Shark yanked the bolt of the rear door and made a dive out into the darkness. Luck was with the killer

again. He seemed almost to dodge Hawkeye's peppering fire. Shark was off on another getaway.

Before the Mongols could make trouble, Cliff and Hawkeye had them covered. Crashes came from the

sliding door that led to the front part of the shop. An ax hewed through. The Mongols saw the blue uniform

of a policeman. Together, the pair started for the rear route that Shark had taken.

Neither Cliff nor Hawkeye fired. They heeded a warning call that Harry gave. Hawkeye, bounded to the

window, shot his arms up to it so Cliff could tug him through. Shots ripped from the shattered sliding door,

Into the room came Joe Cardona, carrying a smoking revolver. He was followed by the private dick, Jim

RELEASED, Harry gave a satisfactory explanation. He said there had been a message at the hotel, asking

him to come here and collect a package of laundry that had been lost in transit. Moy Ming had trapped him;

To avoid mention of Cliff and Hawkeye, Harry said that Shark had started flight when he heard the police

give battle with the front street guards. Moy Ming had objected to Shark's hasty departure; so Shark had shot

Harry's story suited Cardona. The ace gave Harry an explanation of his own, concerning the law's invasion.

"You owe your life to Chanbury," informed Joe. "After you started for town, he began to worry about your

safety. So we came in, the three of us: Chanbury, Tyrune and myself and we stopped outside the Metrolite.

"But we lost you," put in Tyrune. "We had to get out and look around, with some patrolmen. That's how we

Like Cardona, Tyrune gave credit to Chanbury. Harry thanked the grizzled art collector, and shook hands

warmly. Chanbury's blunt features showed embarrassment, although his keen eyes flashed a pleased twinkle.

"It was nothing," assured Chanbury. "I'd been doing some worrying on my own; that's how I happened to

BACK at the hotel, Harry reviewed the night's adventure. He knew that Shark would avoid another thrust.

The killer was satisfied that Harry knew little; and with Moy Ming dead, there was nothing that Harry could

Events would remain latent until after The Shadow's return. Tonight, however, Harry had learned one fact.

Michael Chanbury was a man who could show both keenness and action. Even though Cliff and Hawkeye

Harry was positive that Chanbury was one person who would later prove useful to The Shadow.

A FORTNIGHT had passed and neither the law nor The Shadow's agents had gained a trail to Shark Meglo's

present hideout. The killer was back in his home field. Keeping out of sight was still Shark's best specialty.

Harry Vincent had been an occasional caller at Chanbury's Long Island home; and so had Clyde Burke. The

reporter had been introduced there by Cardona. Both Joe Cardona and Jim Tyrune had visited the wealthy art

collector, in hopes that he might have some good ideas. Chanbury's hunch regarding Harry's predicament had

Chanbury, however, had confessed himself at a complete loss. He was not a crime investigator. He felt that

That statement pleased another visitor who heard it. Madden Henshew had found occasion to visit Michael

Chanbury. One afternoon, Chanbury had shown Henshew and Harry all through the big mansion, with its

"Paintings," Chanbury had said to Henshew, "interest me far more than jewels. It is too bad, Henshew, that

There was one man who chafed under the long lull that had followed the robbery at Silsam's. That man was

On this particular afternoon, two weeks after Harry's rescue, Weston was seated in his big office, nervously

strumming the desk. Weston's mind was badly disturbed. He was therefore somewhat pleased when Clyde

"Too bad," declared Weston ruefully. "Gad, Burke, I wish you could dig up facts regarding those robberies! I

had hopes that you could do so after the keen manner in which you solved the Cranston riddle."

Still strumming the desk, Weston stared from his window, scanning the broad reaches of Manhattan. In a

"Shark Meglo is somewhere in this city. So is another man, a mastercriminal. We are hunting blindly; and

"Maybe not," said Clyde. "You published a full description of the stolen gems. That ought to crimp another

"I hope so, Burke," returned the commissioner. "No more sales, no more crimes. That seems logical. And yet

"Any day, Burke!" he exclaimed. "Any day, these pages may reek with horror! New death new robbery! It's

As he placed the newspaper on the table, Weston indulged in a relieved smile. He pointed to a photograph on

the front page. It showed a long, lean face, with high forehead; firm eyes gazed beneath straight brows. The

picture was of Kent Allard, the lost aviator who was arriving home from Guatemala.

"There's a man for you, Burke," declared Weston. "Twelve years ago, his plane crashed in the jungles of

Guatemala. He was crippled, helpless among a tribe of Xinca Indians; and I understand those savages are the

"Did Allard yield to those Xincas? No! Instead, he tamed them. He lived with them; ruled them. When he had

civilized them to a state where they could govern themselves, he appointed a native as chief. A work of

Clyde nodded his admiration for the famous aviator. The reporter was sorry that he had not taken the

Guatemalan assignment; for Allard's return had developed into the most sensational news story in years. It

There was a ring of Weston's telephone bell. It presaged one of the best scoops that Clyde had ever had as a

newspaper reporter. Clyde did not know that, until Weston finished talking over the wire. The commissioner's

"Bad news and good," announced Weston. "The mayor is too ill to receive Allard when he arrives. I have

THEY met Kent Allard at the Battery, amid the greatest medley of chimes and whistleblasts that had

Tall, limber, the famed aviator wore a solemn look upon his thin, bronzed face. He was as solemn as the pair

Weston and Allard entered an open car and Clyde joined them, much to the envy of other reporters who were

on the scene. Allard spoke brief words to the Xincas; following his bidding, the two Indians went aboard

The procession moved up Broadway, beneath a storm of torn paper that was streaked with ribbons of ticker

tape. Thousands of windows were disgorging that manmade deluge amid the fading light of late afternoon.

The shouts of multitudes rolled among the canyon between the mighty buildings; drowning the music of the

It was that spectacle that only Manhattan can produce: the homecoming welcome for a man of recognized

achievement. It was a titanic expression of modern approval that dwarfed a Roman triumph; yet Kent Allard

His bows to the welcoming throng were properly timed. His smile, when he showed it, was genuine. When

the procession had passed the greatest tumult, Allard chatted with Weston and Clyde, showing no partiality

At the city hall, the aviator received the formal greeting and spoke well chosen words into a microphone, that

was hooked up with a countrywide circuit. He observed the radio announcer's watch and timed his talk to the

Then came the trip to the huge uptown hotel, where a suite had been reserved for Allard. Attired in evening

clothes, the aviator met Weston later and appeared as guest of honor to a huge banquet.

Clyde was still the commissioner's guest; and all through that early evening, the reporter marveled at the

The speech that Allard made was a masterful account of the Xinca Indians, from the days of their ancient

myths to an analysis of their modern life and customs. It was agreed by all who talked with the famous

NINE o'clock found Allard back in his suite, with only Weston and Clyde present; excepting, of course, the

There was one point upon which Allard had dwelt but little; namely, how the Xincas had accepted him as the

white god from the sky. Allard seemed to consider that of but little importance.

Viewing the two Xincas, both Weston and Clyde noticed how definitely Allard had modified that detail. It

was plain that the servitors worshipped their white chief; that every action they made was hinged upon his

"I admire the way you controlled those savage tribesmen," confided Weston. "I wish, by Jove, that we could

use the same system with some of the dangerous characters that rove our underworld!"

Allard's clear blue eyes fixed themselves upon Weston. The commissioner met a stare that carried a hypnotic

strength. He began to understand how the lost aviator had held complete mastery over hundreds of natives for

"Criminals can be handled," declared Allard. "But they should not be compared with the Xincas. The Indians,

though savage, are human. Some denizens of your underworld could be better defined as jackals."

Weston agreed. He thought of Shark Meglo. He told Allard about the murderer, and the aviator added a

comment. Shark, in his opinion, was a jungle killer, whose habitat happened to be the depths of a metropolis,

Finding Allard interested, Weston proceeded with further details; he discussed the quest for the mastercrook

who the law was sure existed. He told of the valuable advice that Madden Henshew had supplied.

WHEN Weston left, Clyde went with him. Allard sat in a comfortable chair beside the window, looking out

His far gaze was reflective; he seemed to be feasting on his new view of New York, as if comparing it with

the solitudes of the Jungle. He listened to the murmur of the city, so different from the noises of the tropical

Meanwhile, the Xincas were prowling softly, their faces as stolid as ever. One moved out into the hallway,

while the other waited at the opened door. When the first returned, the second went into another room. The

Kent Allard arose. As he crossed the room with his slow, long stride, he exhibited a slight limp. Both Weston

and Clyde had noticed it. That limp was the result of a broken leg that Allard had sustained in his airplane

The first Xinca was at the hallway door, pointing to a fire tower that gave a clear path below. The second

Allard received a cloak and slid it over his shoulders. He slid thin gloves over his hands. The last article that

Allard's limp ended as he took a long, gliding stride toward the fire tower. As he reached the darkened

entrance, he turned. His shape was merged with blackness that matched his garb; all that the watching Xincas

A moment later, the eyes were gone. A whispered laugh, delivered by hidden lips, marked the departure of

An amazing thing had happened; an event so incredible that even Clyde Burke could not have believed it, had

he been here to witness the whole occurrence. Kent Allard, returned to New York for the first time in twelve

years, had transformed himself into the one personage that it seemed impossible for him to be.

IN New York, there lived a remarkable man named Slade Farrow, who was at home on this particular

evening. Farrow dwelt in a modest little apartment; he was a kindly faced man, of gentle manner. There were

Farrow was a criminologist, who had devoted his life to two fine purposes: the reforming of crooks who were

within redemption, and the righting of wrongs done innocent persons, who had been imprisoned for crimes

Farrow literally took his coat off when he settled down to such work. Frequently he had entered a

penitentiary, posing as a convict, to gain the confidence of certain prisoners. There was one thing about

Farrow; no one could know him long without realizing that he was a man of absolute trust.

In his easy chair, beside a glowing table lamp, Farrow had set aside a book to reflect upon the past. He

remembered the time when his generous career had been threatened by disaster. Rescue had come through a

mysterious cloaked being called This Shadow. (See "The Green Box," Vol. IX, No. 2.) Since then, The

That was one question that Farrow could not answer. Sometimes The Shadow visited here in garb of black.

Farrow also recalled a visitor who called himself Lamont Cranston, but was not actually the millionaire who

bore that name. He remembered another, Henry Arnaud, but Farrow knew that the identity was simply a

All those visitors had been The Shadow. Farrow had seen The Shadow in other guises, also; but had never

Farrow however, had cherished one confident belief. If The Shadow ever revealed himself to any one,

naming his identity when unmasked, Farrow would be the person to whom The Shadow would so appear.

Despite that surety, Farrow had no inkling that The Shadow's unmasking would take place here tonight.

As Farrow reached for his book, he heard a whispered voice beside him. Looking up, Farrow saw the cloaked

figure of The Shadow. He met the burn of eyes that were focused from beneath the slouch hat brim. As in the

Cloak fell away. Gloved hands lifted the slouch hat, then peeled away the gloves themselves. The visitor

chose a chair and came into the light. Farrow saw a face that he had never viewed before, but it seemed

Catching a connected thought, he looked toward a newspaper that lay on the table. He saw a photograph that

For a moment, Farrow thought that he was seeing The Shadow in some new disguise, then the sheer

impossibility of the situation awoke a different idea. Long ago, Farrow had decided that The Shadow's real

Kent Allard had been twelve years in the Guatemala jungle. All that while The Shadow had been battling

crime in New York and elsewhere. On the face of it, Allard and The Shadow could not be the same person.

That was why Farrow decided that they were. He was used to the impossible, where The Shadow was

"It is amazing," confessed Farrow, "but I am confident that you are actually Kent Allard."

"I am," stated Allard. "Because I have actually returned to my own identity, I have decided that you should

The tone indicated that Farrow could ask questions. Reaching for the newspaper, Farrow refreshed himself on

"It states here," declared Farrow, "that you were an aviator in the World War; an ace who was shot down

within the enemy's lines. You were believed dead until a short while before the Armistice. Then you returned,

"After the war, you retained your interest in aviation and made several outstanding flights. The last was the

long hop to South America, which ended somewhere in Central America. You were believed dead until a few

"A great deal of it," declared Allard. "I was actually a War ace. Winning air battles seemed to come to me

naturally, and I gained a preference for night flights. The enemy called me the Dark Eagle. They were glad

Allard paused. His smile was as reflective as Farrow's. In reminiscent tone, he added:

"But I was not shot down. I landed by design; and drilled the gas tank of my own ship. Wearing a black garb,

I traveled by night, on foot, within the enemy's lines. I entered prison camps, yes; but never as a prisoner. I

visited them only to release men who were held there, to guide them in their escape.

"By day, I adopted disguises; and working entirely on my own, I contacted our secret agents. That was when

I learned my faculty for penetrating the deepest schemes. I met persons who were amazed to learn that I had

"I became a roving secret agent, and finally located a secret air base maintained by the enemy. It seemed

suicidal to visit that place and map it. They actually trapped me after I had finished. But my experience as

aviator served me. I escaped from the base itself, in one of the enemy's own planes."

Farrow understood the rest of that adventure. Kent Allard, returned to his own friends, had naturally stated

that he had escaped from a prison camp. By thus accounting for his absence, he had kept the future open for

"The war ended," continued Allard. "I found that aviation offered part of the life I needed; but it provided

neither the action of battle, nor the keen work of the secret agent. I rejected the idea of becoming a soldier of

fortune. I considered warfare an uncivilized institution except when absolute necessity required it.

"I saw such necessity in a field that others had neglected. Crime was becoming rampant in America and

elsewhere. Underworlds were organized, with their own hidden battle lines. Only a lone foe could pierce that

cordon; once inside, he would have to move by stealth, and strike with power and suddenness. I chose that

FARROW could see the expression of Allard's face. In the light, the clear eyes concealed their burning

power. At moments, however, Farrow noted the hawklike semblance of Allard's countenance. He

"I resolved to bury my identity," declared Allard. "I flew South and landed purposely in Guatemala. I spent a

few months among the Xincas and gained their friendship. I came home, disguised so none could recognize

"During my new career, I found it necessary to appear in many places. Sometimes the actors in the scenes of

the underworld were mere puppets, manipulated by masterplotters who posed as men of high esteem. There

"I had once known Lamont Cranston, millionaire globetrotter, whose hobbies were exploration and aviation.

Cranston was often absent from the country; so I adopted his appearance. It gave me all the advantages that I

needed. As Cranston, I found occasional opportunities to stop in Central America and visit my isolated

Farrow had listened breathless. A sudden thought struck him. He started the question:

"That I look his place?" smiled Allard. "Yes. I had to settle that matter, once. I visited Cranston, as The

Shadow. I let him see me as himself. That visit gained Cranston's full cooperation. Ever since, he has

obligingly stayed away, whenever I have requested his absence. There have been occasional complications;

Farrow understood. That Croydon air crash had left Cranston unable to cooperate further, for the present. The

millionaire's name had come into headlines. Soon, Cranston would be back in America; but he might be

unable to travel for the next few months. The Shadow had needed another role; so he had become himself.

"As The Shadow, I have become widely known," remarked Allard, in a methodical tone. "Though I have

remained untraced, there are many who can testify to my whereabouts at certain times during the past twelve

"That place is Guatemala. By returning home as Kent Allard, I have chosen the best of all possible identifies.

No one will ever link me with The Shadow. As Allard, I shall be welcome everywhere. I have already

established myself with Commissioner Weston. I can enter the same circles where I appeared as Cranston.

"I have long foreseen this prospect. All that I awaited was the necessity of becoming myself. The longer I

RISING from his chair, Allard raised his cloak and placed it over his shoulders. He donned the slouch hat. As

he drew on his gloves, Farrow saw the glow of a fire opal that shone from the third finger of The Shadow's

left hand. That stone, shimmering with every hue of the rainbow, had long served as The Shadow's token.

The opal was a girasol, a gem of sparkling beauty, found only near Zimapan, in southern Mexico. There was

a history to the unmatched specimen that The Shadow wore. For the present, he did not take time to relate the

The Shadow's girasol was the great "eyestone" of the Xinca tribe. Pressed southward, centuries ago, they

had carried that gem to Guatemala as the symbol of promise, to be delivered to the great bird god who would

That Xinca legend involving the girasol probably had its origin in the Aztec myth of a white god who would

some day visit them. The Aztecs had welcomed Cortez and the Spaniards, because of such a legend, and had

suffered disaster thereby. The Xincas, persisting in a similar belief, had greeted Kent Allard.

He had been worthy of the legend. His coming had ended strife among the Xincas. Often had their white god

left them; always had he returned. Ever from his finger shone the great "eyestone," the Xinca gift that had

A glove covered the girasol. Cloaked completely in black, Kent Allard was again The Shadow. In the guise

The Shadow's past was told. He was ready to discuss the future. The Shadow was resuming the trail that he

FARROW had all the data that The Shadow wanted. Burbank had forwarded all reports to the criminologist,

so that they could be in order when The Shadow returned. Producing his files, Farrow placed typewritten

Clyde Burke had culled a great deal of information. Going the rounds with Joe Cardona, the reporter had

listed the names of many possible suspects all jewel brokers or salesmen of doubtful repute. Cardona had

quizzed a dozen or more; and news of the police search had traveled. The rest of the questionable group were

When he had finished his study of the scattered evidence, The Shadow questioned Farrow regarding an

"I would say that Cardona has taken the wrong course," he declared. "It seems obvious that there is a crime

leader behind Shark's raids. But there is no real evidence to show that such a person belongs to the particular

"Cardona is following Henshew's advice," reminded The Shadow. "No one knows the jewel trade better than

There was a significance to The Shadow's tone that Farrow did not catch. Farrow was too concentrated upon

"Henshew knows the jewel market," admitted Farrow, "but that could indicate that he cannot see beyond it.

He would naturally be prejudiced against unethical jewel brokers. That is why he suspects them."

Farrow picked up a report of Clyde's visit to Henshew. Carefully, Farrow read over every statement that the

"Logical enough," commented Farrow, "but too restricted. In effect, Henshew believes that some smalltime

jewel merchant has developed into a mastercrook. My opinion would be just the opposite. I suspect that

some bigtime crook has learned the gem business sufficiently well to dupe such victims as Hugo Silsam."

Farrow reached for lists of his own. He checked over names of known criminals. Some were swindlers;

others racketeers. Any of them might have the capability that Farrow credited to them.

But Farrow admitted that the list did not satisfy him. He had been looking into the affairs of those criminals

"Perhaps I have missed on one of them," said Farrow. "What is more, I may be entirely mistaken. Henshew's

theory could be correct. Nevertheless, it is froth, whether right or wrong. It was Henshew's positive manner

SEATED, The Shadow brushed Farrow's documents aside. He drew off his right glove brought out a fountain

pen and took a sheet of blank paper. He drew a circle near the top of the page in ink of vivid blue. In the

"Let us say," suggested The Shadow, "that the circle represents secrecy. That is why the victim was so

completely enmeshed. Someone sold Silsam on the necessity of keeping his gem purchase as private as

Farrow nodded. He recognized that Silsam's name typified the others who had been robbed and murdered

The Shadow drew a second circle, below and to the right of Silsam's. Within it, he placed the name:

No comment was necessary. The circle represented Shark's hideout, the measure of protection that kept the

killer safe from capture. Moving the pen to the left, The Shadow drew a third circle. "This surrounds the

mastercriminal," expressed The Shadow, in a sibilant tone. "Possibly you can suggest the sort of protection

Farrow hadn't thought of it in that fashion. It struck him instantly that he had missed a vital point. Yes, the

supercrook would need protection of his own. Something different than the measure he had used to hold

"He would need a strong position," said Farrow, slowly. "One that would enable him to divert the law's

Farrow stopped. The Shadow had started to fill the circle. Before Farrow's eyes appeared the finished name,

The chart told its story. Henshew, holder of the jewels, placed them with dupes like Silsam. His own

persuasive advice the very sort that had impressed Cardona caused victims to keep their purchases

confidential. That plus Henshew's high reputation. Next, the gems were seized by Shark; finally they came

As if to prove The Shadow's analysis, the top circle faded. Its ink had dried; in that state it disappeared, for

For a final touch The Shadow made a new circle where Silsam's had been, but left it blank.

Shark's circle vanished. Henshew's followed. Only the ominous blank circle remained at the top of the page.

It represented the mesh that would soon involve a new victim. The Shadow crumpled the paper before the

"Do you think" his question was a trained one "that Henshew will dare to attempt the game again?"

"If he does," returned The Shadow, "his move will be a daring one. His boldness is his greatest strength."

The Shadow stepped away. He was gone, in the blackness beyond the lamp's range of light. Farrow heard the

soft close of the apartment door. He knew that The Shadow had set forth upon a new mission.

A WHILE afterward, The Shadow arrived in a room that was almost totally darkened. Only the bare outline

of windows was visible. A tiny flashlight flicked. It showed articles of furniture and finally reached an

alcove; where it centered on a closed writing desk. Beyond was a bookcase built in a niche.

The bookcase was far different from the flimsy one that The Shadow had seen at Shark's transfer place. Its

Carefully, The Shadow removed volumes from their shelves. He found a panel, of solid feel; but The

The Shadow's flashlight shone into the space that had so recently held Henshew's hoard of tainted gems. As

The rear wall of the space was solid. There was no need for transfer here. The fact that gems were missing

was a link with Henshew's own absence. The scheming supercrook had begun new operations earlier than

That bore significance. It indicated exactly what The Shadow had predicted: a bold move by Henshew. It

meant, too, although Henshew was keeping contact with the law, he had found a chance for new operations.

Where, under such circumstances, had he found a dupe who might be handled yet kept under full control? A

wealthy man whose trust he had obtained? Some person whose very position would be a protection for

The Shadow knew that Henshew would have to play his cards cunningly. He would have to be ready with a

perfect explanation if the police learned that he was handling a large jewel sale. Those very angles gave The

Though Chanbury was chiefly an art collector, he had talked gems with Henshew according to reports at

Farrow's. A sale to Chanbury could be explained by Henshew, if Chanbury mentioned it. Henshew would

If Chanbury kept the sale confidential, as Henshew hoped, the way would be clear for new robbery. If Shark

Meglo murdered Chanbury, the law might not suspect a robbery at all. Shark had a grudge against Chanbury.

CLOSING the cache, The Shadow worked on the writing desk and unlocked it. He found Henshew's tools

and other items, which explained the crook's practice of altering gems. Chanbury had seen Silsam's jewels;

In the desk drawer, The Shadow found some odd mountings that Henshew had not used. Before he could lock

Thinking that Henshew had returned, The Shadow risked leaving the drawer unlocked. He faded to a corner

It was not Henshew who entered. The man who came into the room moved clumsily through the darkness. He

lowered the window shades, used a flashlight to find the wall switch. He turned on the lights. The Shadow

saw a stoopshouldered man who had a wan, prying face and quick, nervous eyes. He knew the fellow from

Tyrune had unlocked the door with a passkey; and that marked the limit of his lock work. He tried the

writing desk, but couldn't open it. Finding the drawer unlocked, he made a note of its contents in a memo

Looking around the room, he checked on everything. He eyed the bookcase suspiciously, but did not disturb

Tyrune paced the floor to put down measurements, but he did not come close to The Shadow's hiding spot.

Finally, the dick turned out the lights, raised the shades and blundered out through the door of the apartment.

As soon as he was gone, The Shadow locked the desk drawer and followed. He trailed Tyrune down a

Tyrune stopped at the nearest corner and paced about, hands in pockets. He kept peeking through a drug store

window, to watch a big clock on the wall. At last, he looked for a taxi and saw one coming along the

darkened side street. Tyrune stopped it, only a few yards from a darkened wall space where The Shadow

The cab pulled away. The Shadow's laugh was whispered, after the taxi had gone. Tyrune, himself, had

supplied the link that The Shadow wanted. The address that the dick had given was that of Chanbury's Long

The Shadow was right. Henshew had gone to Chanbury's. But in Michael Chanbury, the smart crook was due

to find a man much different from those whom he had duped in the past. Like The Shadow, Chanbury had

The Shadow could foresee the trapping of Madden Henshew; and Shark Meglo with him.

WHILE The Shadow was finishing his investigation in Manhattan, Henshew and Chanbury were at the

latter's Long Island home. They were seated in the downstairs portrait room; between them lay opened jewel

Chanbury was inspecting the disguised stones that had once been Silsam's. He seemed totally oblivious to the

bold game that Henshew was playing. He questioned the price of the collection. Henshew set it at a quarter

Chanbury hesitated, to shake his head. If he expected Henshew to bargain, he missed a guess. Henshew was

avoiding that. Moreover, he had noted the reluctant tone of Chanbury's voice. Henshew sat back and let

After some twenty minutes, Chanbury still seemed uncertain, Henshew calmly put the gems back in their

"I can bring them here again. It would be well, perhaps, to inform Inspector Cardona "

His tone was almost a warning. Chanbury laughed as he clapped Henshew's shoulder.

"I won't make Silsam's mistake," said Chanbury. "He dealt with an impostor. I am dealing with the most

Henshew expressed his appreciation of Chanbury's compliment. He tried to pass it off with feigned modesty.

"Your opinion is all I require," Chanbury told Henshew. "I know that your price is the right one. As for the

police" he shook his head "frankly, I believe that all their moves are being watched. Where Cardona goes,

"It would be best for you to leave," he said, "if we are to keep this matter confidential. I expect an unwanted

"To check over those lists of Silsam's gems," explained Chanbury. "They want a better description. How they

expect me to give one is a puzzle. The lists were far more detailed than any description that I can give."

THE statement pleased Henshew. At Chanbury's suggestion, he shoved the jewel cases into inside pockets so

that none of the servants could see them. Eleanor was absent tonight; Henshew had made sure that it was the

"You are the one who must be careful," warned Chanbury. "You are carrying a valuable cargo."

"I am going straight to the office," returned Henshew. "They are waiting there for me, to put the gems in the

Chanbury seemed reluctant because he had postponed the purchase. He stopped Henshew at the door and

Chanbury beckoned him to the desk. From deep in a drawer, he produced a chamois bag and poured its

contents into the light. Henshew saw rough, uncut diamonds in a quantity that amazed him.

"I have gathered these for years," remarked Chanbury, "but they give me very little satisfaction. I should

prefer finished stones, instead. I also like variety. I have been told that these uncut diamonds are worth close

"They are worth more. At least a quarter million. They would do as payment for the gems that you saw

Chanbury walked to the door with Henshew; he asked when his visitor could call again.

"I am going to Philadelphia to appraise some gems tomorrow," said Henshew. "Any other evening would

The doorknob was turning as Chanbury reached for it. That door had been ajar, but neither man had noticed

it. As the two stepped into the outside gallery, darkness moved ahead of them. Lights were dim; the

occurrence escaped observation. That darkness blocked itself beneath the marble stairs before Chanbury and

A servant ushered Henshew up the long, curved stairs. Chanbury went back to his portrait room. After ten

minutes, another caller arrived. The man was Tyrune. He went through to Chanbury's room; the servant who

Darkness stirred beneath the marble staircase. A silent gliding shape, The Shadow followed the gallery, to

reach the door of Chanbury's portrait room. The Shadow had traveled here ahead of Tyrune, arriving soon

enough to witness the finish of Henshew's visit. He had a present opportunity to view what followed.

Under The Shadow's expert pressure, the knob of Chanbury's door turned slowly. The door itself moved

imperceptibly inward. Through a narrow crack, The Shadow saw and heard all that happened within.

"HENSHEW is a crook!" The firm words were Chanbury's. "Without a question, Jim. Look" busy at his

desk, Chanbury passed over papers that he was rapidly writing "see these lists. They describe the gems that

"Of course not! But you have just told me that you found mountings in Henshew's desk drawer. Can't you see

Tyrune was still doubtful. Chanbury brought out a list of Silsam's collection. He spoke triumphantly.

"The total tallies. Emeralds, rubies, sapphires even the little diamonds. That's one trick Henshew missed.

"What price do you think Henshew gave my uncut diamonds? A quarter million! Because I hoaxed him into

it, by saying they were worthless. He'd be glad to take them for those planted jewels that have been going the

rounds. Of course he would. My uncut diamonds have been appraised at four hundred thousand dollars.

"What can you prove against Henshew?" he questioned. "After all, his gems don't fit the weak description

Chanbury settled back in his chair. He thought over what Tyrune had said. He picked up a key that Tyrune

"If you had only brought back more evidence, Jim," he said, "we could pin the goods on Henshew. I'll label

this passkey Exhibit A; but it means very little. I hoped that you'd find clues in the apartment, while I was

"Here's the whole layout, Mr. Chanbury." Tyrune produced the notebook. "But you told me not to disturb

anything. So I didn't. I didn't think it wise to pinch any of those things in the desk drawer. Henshew might

"How about going through with the deal?" asked the dick. "Let Henshew sell you those gems. Then be ready

when Shark comes to get them. If Henshew's the crook, Shark will surely show up, later."

"I've had that idea," returned Chanbury. "I'm in deep, though. If I give Henshew the uncut diamonds, he will

make so huge a profit that he may be satisfied. Then there would be no attempted robbery."

That stumped Tyrune. Chanbury arose and paced the floor impatiently, shoving his fingers through his

"I'll call Henshew tomorrow! I'll tell him that I intend to keep my uncut diamonds. I'll say that I want his

"Let it. The harder he's pressed, the more chance he'll make a mistake. His nerve is colossal! He proved that

tonight. Yes, I think the shift in our game will be just the thing to settle Madden Henshew."

THE discussion was ended. Tyrune started for the door, and Chanbury walked along with him as he had with

Henshew. The Shadow was gone when they reached the gallery. Beside the stairway, he heard Chanbury's

"I suspected Henshew the night that he was here. He showed a mean eye when he looked at that chap

The two men reached the head of the stairway. The Shadow followed, but did not move toward the front

door. Instead, he chose a convenient side passage one that Harry Vincent had mentioned in a thorough

Hardly had The Shadow edged from view before one of Chanbury's servants arrived. The man became

The Shadow was just beyond the glow, close to the blackness of the side passage outer door, edging it slowly

outward. Had the servant approached, The Shadow would have needed a swift move. The fellow delayed,

When Chanbury arrived, he found the servant staring steadily at the blackness that represented the side door.

Chanbury's lips tightened. He feared some spy of Henshew's, here to spoil the welllaid plan to trap the

mastercrook. Leaving the servant on watch, Chanbury stepped away, to return promptly with a revolver and

Chanbury advanced with the flashlight. Shining on the door, the glare showed vacancy. The key was in the

lock; Chanbury tried the door. It was locked. Chanbury's face showed relief. There could have been no one in

Chanbury never guessed that an amazing intruder had eased past the halfopened door, to close it and lock it

Again, The Shadow had made an invisible departure. Lost in blanketing night, he had carried away the

AT five the next afternoon, Clyde Burke visited Henshew's offices near Maiden Lane. His pretext for the trip

was that he required some information for a feature story concerning famous crown jewels. Henshew was

It happened, however, that Henshew had left the office. Clyde explained the purpose of his visit; he stated

By such tactics, Clyde learned that Henshew had left for Philadelphia on the fouro'clock express.

"Merely a trip down and back," explained Henshew's secretary. "A matter of a brief appraisal. Mr. Henshew

"Then he should be home by nine," calculated Clyde. "Perhaps I could see him there."

"Mr. Henshew never welcomes evening callers. It would be better if you made an appointment to come here

Clyde agreed that tomorrow morning would be soon enough. As he was about to leave the office, he

"I understood that I would meet Mr. Chanbury here," he remarked. "He said that he would wait for me. I

The name puzzled the secretary. He looked up the records of the day's calls and finally discovered Chanbury's

name. He informed that Chanbury had telephoned at half past three, just before Henshew left to catch his

train. Since Chanbury had talked to Henshew, the latter had probably told him that he was leaving town;

That was the secretary's version of it. Clyde phoned Burbank, later, with the details; and the report reached

The Shadow promptly. The Shadow knew the real reason for Chanbury's call to Henshew.

Chanbury had already known that the jewel broker was going to Philadelphia. Chanbury had telephoned

simply to offer cash, instead of uncut diamonds, for Henshew's fine collection of gems.

It happened that The Shadow had a dinner engagement with Commissioner Weston at the Cobalt Club. The

Shadow was to appear there at six, as Kent Allard. Weston made a great show of introducing celebrities at the

Weston would be disappointed when Allard left soon after eight o'clock; but such would have to be the case.

Since Henshew was due back by nine, Allard could not stay at the club too late. As The Shadow, he intended

THERE was another person due for a disappointment. That was Clyde Burke. Weston had invited him to the

club and Clyde had been highly pleased at the prospect of meeting Kent Allard again. Clyde lost his

There was a message requesting him to call the beauty shop of a Manhattan hotel. Clyde made the call; when

he gave his name, he was told to hold the telephone. A few minutes later, he heard a girl's voice:

Clyde did remember. In his recent visits to Chanbury's, he had discovered nothing of interest except Eleanor

Merwood. Clyde had invited the girl to dinner and theater, any time she happened to be free. She had agreed

"I thought I'd hear from you last night," said Clyde. "Wasn't that your night off?"

"It was," replied Eleanor, "but I had to visit some relatives. This afternoon, at four o'clock, Mr. Chanbury

Clyde told Eleanor about the Cobalt Club dinner. It would be impossible for him to dine with the girl; and he

probably wouldn't get away from Allard's reception until very late in the evening. Eleanor was disappointed;

"I'll have dinner alone, and be home early," she said. "I can finish some work that I was putting off until

"By the way," remarked Clyde, "I was at Henshew's at five. I learned that Mr. Chanbury called there. Was it

"I don't know," replied Eleanor, frankly. "I called the number for Mr. Chanbury, but I was not in the room

THE dinner at the Cobalt Club proved a dull affair, attended by a quota of stuffedshirt members, who asked

Kent Allard useless questions regarding his experiences in Guatemala. Everything that they asked had been

Instead, the famous aviator maintained his usual calm and answered everything in concise fashion.

At eightfifteen, Allard arose and gravely shook hands around the circle. He stated that he was returning to

his hotel; and his decision was so emphatic that Weston could not even splutter an objection. Walking out to

"In about an hour." Allard's lips showed a slight smile. "I have an appointment; after that, I shall be free at the

That ended Clyde's chance to call Eleanor and talk with her again; perhaps getting her to come in town in

time for a late show. It also meant that Clyde was to scoop the city on another big news story.

HENSHEW'S apartment was only fifteen minutes from the Cobalt Club, and The Shadow headed there

After rolling slowly along the darkened rear street, Moe knew that his passenger was gone. Moe circled the

The cab was still there when Madden Henshew arrived home at ten minutes of nine, thanks to the fast

schedule of the express from Philadelphia and a quick cab trip from Pennsylvania Station. Something

Moreover, for once, The Shadow was seemingly unwary. When Henshew unlocked the apartment door, he

saw a flicker of light that repeated itself in the corner by the bookcase. It was the gleam of The Shadow's tiny

Apparently, the intruder had not heard Henshew unlock the door; otherwise the light would not have

glimmered twice. Softly, Henshew closed the door and sneaked through the outside hall. For once, the

Henshew managed to fake an unruffled appearance when he went downstairs in the elevator. He spoke

"I forgot a package at the station. If any one calls while I am out, tell them to wait."

Reaching a store on the corner, Henshew was excited again. His fingers shook as he dialed a number. He was

taking a long shot that he had reserved only in case of extreme emergency. He was making a direct telephone

Shark's voice answered with disguised gruffness. With whispered pant, Henshew spoke his own name from

"Some one in the apartment!" wheezed Henshew. "I don't know who it is only I saw him searching there!"

"Then it wasn't The Shadow." Shark's growl was a confident one. "Whatta you want me to do? Take care of it

Shark hung up abruptly. Henshew came sweating from the booth and started toward the street. He

remembered that he had mentioned a package to the doorman. So he made some purchases in the drug store

OUTSIDE, Henshew walked nervously around the block. He knew that Shark would arrive very soon, for the

killer had shifted to a new hideout. It was in a disreputable district that encroached upon big apartment

Henshew had not liked Shark's choice of a new hiding place; but his opinion had changed tonight. He knew,

too, that Shark always kept a crew of triggermen close enough to be summoned without delay. By the time

Lugging his package, Henshew hurried along another block; saw a cab and boarded it. He rode to the

apartment house, only a twentycent fare; but he handed the taxi driver a half dollar and told him to keep the

The doorman saw that Henshew's package was fairly heavy, so he offered to take it.

That suited Henshew. Fishing for his apartment key, he asked the doorman to carry the package upstairs. As

they walked toward the elevator, Henshew saw that it was ten minutes after nine. The time suited him

Again, the mastercrook's face was calm. He was ready for another of his daring games, one that he had long

ago arranged in every detail, even though he had never expected to use it. This game would bring an alibi, the

sort that would help. Henshew was almost glad that a prowler had entered his apartment.

There was another little matter that this episode might settle; one that had rankled Henshew ever since the

afternoon, when Chanbury had called to offer cash instead of uncut diamonds. That new suggestion regarding

Matters would be different after the next half hour, decided Henshew; and he was right. Matters were to be

far different, for both Madden Henshew and his murderous accomplice, Shark Meglo.

The present trap was like a spider web, set to enmesh a helpless fly. That web had gathered in a stinging

SHARK MEGLO and his henchmen had reached the upper floor ahead of Henshew. They had come by that

rear entrance that led to the stairway, a route unwatched by apartment house attendants, for the back door had

Shark had keys to the apartment, also. There were two doors one from the main hallway, the other from a

side corridor. The first opened into Henshew's living room; the second into a kitchenette. Shark was using

both. He spoke final instructions to his triggermen, at the spot where the corridors met.

"Get the lug that's in there," ordered Shark. "Bounce a gat off his konk and drag him along. We're taking him

on a oneway ride! Whoever grabs the guy is to head out in a hurry. The rest of you heave stuff around the

"Keep wrecking it until Henshew shows up with some of the monkeys that work here. Don't bump any of that

Shark did not specify why he had given such odd instructions; but that did not bother his men. They never

guessed that this raid was to polish off an unwanted intruder and cover up for Henshew. Shark's outfit took

Half a dozen strong, the invaders deployed in two groups entering by living room and kitchenette. They were

cautious as they moved, for they wanted to trap their victim unawares. They needed some token to make sure

The Shadow's tiny flashlight was blinking along the middle row of books in the living room alcove. It did not

show the person who held it. Shark, therefore, was more positive than ever that the intruder could not be The

Shark restrained his men with a whisper. This victim would be easy; he was too concentrated on his search to

The flashlight finally stopped near the end of a row of books. Its glow became fixed, shining at an angle

Five thugs surged forward in a fanwise wall closing in upon their prey. All were eager to land the first

slugging blow. As the thugs attacked, Shark pressed the light switch. In the glare, Shark saw his men drive up

No victim lay beneath them. One thug had jarred the writing desk; Shark saw a tiny flashlight topple to the

floor. It had been resting there on the desk, to draw the attack; but its elusive owner was gone!

A STRONG laugh challenged from the corner that same spot where The Shadow had kept from Tyrune's

view only a night ago. Shifting in the dark The Shadow had picked that vantage point. His mirth told his

Chill mockery, a sardonic laugh that only one living being could hurl, was his token of defiance.

Attackers were tricked. They knew it. Most duped of the lot was Shark Meglo, the leader who had assured his

followers that they would find an easy victim. To Shark's ears, as to others, the source of The Shadow's laugh

was indefinable. The mirth seemed to shiver from the very walls of this large room.

It was Shark, however, who first saw The Shadow. Maddened to desperation, the murderer spun viciously,

his ugly eyes glittering in their search. Shark saw The Shadow; but not in time to act.

A streak of blackness, The Shadow was looming upon the killer, driving with terrific speed. Launched

straight for the murderer, the cloaked avenger was bringing a gun muzzle to bear.

Had Shark tried to beat The Shadow to that shot, his attempt would have been suicide. In one stroke, The

Shadow could end all battle; for Shark's crew would weaken with their leader's fall.

Shark did not try to fire. He was more yellow than The Shadow supposed. Shark made a wild dive away from

Shark's crew heard; they whipped about to see The Shadow. Not guessing that Shark had yellowed, the

It was The Shadow's turn for a shift of action. Halting, he sped his free hand to the light switch and pressed it.

The room was blotted in an instant. The Shadow had whirled away when the triggermen began their fire.

Amid the barks of wildly stabbing revolvers came the spurts of The Shadow's .45, pumping its deadly metal.

Darkness was The Shadow's entrenchment. He was everywhere, yet nowhere. Thugs were sinking, wounded;

others thought they had located The Shadow. Revolvers boomed in unison, all in one direction.

As the echoes ended, a laugh sounded in the ears of the faltering killers. An instant later, The Shadow was

sledging strokes to unprotected skulls, in the very midst of the clustered crew!

CROOKS broke. They dashed for the doorways, hoping that The Shadow's gun was empty. It was; but he

was drawing a second weapon. He ripped new bullets after the fleeing horde. The few who escaped were

lucky. Only two were able to reach the hallway; but there was one who had gone ahead of them.

That was Shark Meglo. He had taken flight through the kitchenette, during that last setto in the darkness.

In the hallway, the pair of fleeing crooks bowled over Henshew and the doorman. They were headed for the

open elevator; but the operator slammed it in their faces and they took to the stairs instead.

Henshew, playing the part of a frightened man, ran along the hall trying to open apartment doors; and the

All was quiet on the battle ground, except for the groans of crippled thugs who lay in Henshew's living room.

Somewhere in the darkness moved The Shadow; but there was another who had suddenly chosen a lurking

The pair of routed hoodlums had torn past Shark before he could reach the stairway, for their route was

shorter. When he reached the stairs, Shark stopped. A vicious look covered his longjawed face.

So it was The Shadow, after all; and The Shadow thought that Shark was yellow. Whatever Shark's own

estimate of himself, he saw advantage in the situation. The Shadow would be coming out from Henshew's,

confident that no enemy remained. That was where The Shadow would be fooled. The Shadow would find no

Crouched on the stairs, Shark waited, ready with his gun. He hadn't wasted a shot from that big weapon. He

would have six of them for The Shadow when that bulletdodger came. With narrowed eyes, Shark watched

Those minutes in Henshew's apartment had been brief but rapid. The minutes that Shark waited were few, but

In them, Shark could hear Henshew and the doorman coming out to investigate. Once they went into the

apartment, The Shadow would move out. Shark grinned at the pleasant thought. There was only one way The

Shark steadied his gun in that direction, watching for the slightest streak of blackness.

Something cold pressed Shark's neck. Its frigid touch streaked down his yellow spine. A fierce, contemptuous

whisper sounded in his ear. The murderer's gun hand loosened; his revolver thudded.

Impossible though it was, The Shadow had come up the stairs behind him. The blackclad master had

THROUGH a window from Henshew's apartment, to one on the floor below, such had been The Shadow's

simple effective strategy. Deprived of his protecting crew, Shark Meglo had became The Shadow's prisoner.

Forced to his feet, Shark stood with upraised hands, as The Shadow moved him forward toward the main

hallway that fronted on Henshew's apartment. Shark knew what The Shadow intended.

He was going to turn him over to other captors, who would hold him for the law. Shark knew what that

"I get it," snarled Shark, without turning his head. "You're going to hand me over! But what about Henshew

Shark heard The Shadow laugh. The yellow murderer chewed his lips. He had blabbed too much. Maybe The

Shadow would have handed him to Henshew! thought Shark. That would have meant escape. It wouldn't

First at the hallway corner, Shark saw the doorman and some persons who had come from other apartments.

They had picked up revolvers in Henshew's apartment. They stared, gaping, at the sight of Shark advancing

in surrender; for they did not discern The Shadow, that blackened, avenging form behind the killer.

Men raised their guns, to take over the prisoner. With bleary eyes, Shark saw that Henshew was absent. That

In his apartment, the crooked gem dealer had waited in the living room alcove. Others had gone outside.

Flattened thugs were listless and disinterested. No one was present to watch Henshew's actions at the

This time, it was Henshew's turn to view blankness, where he had expected the glitter of gems. He was seeing

the vacancy that The Shadow had previously viewed in this very space. Henshew's hidden baubles were gone.

Crooks had not arrived in time to prevent their removal. The Shadow's battle had been a delayed action; the

Madden Henshew stared at the rifled nest. Mechanically, he closed the panel and put the books back in place.

With gritted teeth, he picked up a revolver that lay upon the floor. Quivering as he moved along, Henshew

The mastercrook wanted to meet The Shadow. He was to have that wish much sooner than he expected.

WHEN Madden Henshew reached the hallway, he stopped there, riveted. His astoundment was greater than a

minute ago. It seemed plausible that The Shadow could have taken the hidden gems; but the willing surrender

It was then that Henshew guessed the truth. Some one was standing past Shark, forcing the killer forward.

Shark was a prisoner of The Shadow. Henshew's revolver seemed to freeze in his hand. He could not have

Henshew was as helpless as Shark. With the killer's body as a shield, The Shadow could mow down anyone

At that moment, Henshew felt sure his game was up. The Shadow knew too much. Henshew wanted to dodge

back into the apartment. He realized that he could be instantly trapped there. Nothing that Henshew could

Before Shark had advanced another reluctant step, there was a clang from the elevator door. Looking straight

along the hall, Henshew was facing the elevator. He saw its occupants; The Shadow could not. The Shadow's

"Get him!" shrieked Henshew, his cry spontaneous. "Shoot him down! The man in black!"

There were two policemen in the car beatpounders that the elevator operator had summoned. They did not

recognize The Shadow as someone who sided with the law. They heard Henshew's cry as one of authority.

They saw a big gun in The Shadow's fist. The weapon was pressed against the neck of a man whose face they

Shark was almost as quick as Henshew, for Shark was speedy when it came to selfpreservation. He took a

forward pitch to the floor, to get away from The Shadow's aim and give Henshew a chance to fire. It was then

that Henshew really saw The Shadow and caught the glint of the masterfighter's burning eyes.

Henshew had the chance he wanted: to shoot it out with The Shadow. Like Shark. Henshew was lucky not to

If The Shadow had been dealing with Henshew and Shark alone, he could have finished the conspirators with

ease. There were others, though, with whom The Shadow had no quarrel; and as luck had it, they were allying

themselves against him. The bluecoats were leaping from the elevator. The Shadow had to get away from

WHEELING, The Shadow met one patrolman and shoved his gun hand upward. The other fired, but his

The Shadow heaved the first officer toward the second, tangling them for the moment. The move carried him

That was unfortunate. Men in the hall were blazing shots. They were springing forward to battle the dim

figure that bobbed so swiftly. The elevator man pounced for The Shadow. The fellow went sprawling from a

Shouts greeted him. Apartment attendants were arriving, two more officers with them. Again, there was

Guns blazed as The Shadow cut through the rear of Henshew's apartment. Men came through to cut him off;

The Shadow began to spill them. One was Henshew; The Shadow took a terrific slug at the crook's skull.

Shark was at the doorway. He aimed for The Shadow. Quickly, The Shadow blazed shots at the killer. Again,

grabbing arms spoiled his aim; but Shark did a duck when bullets ripped the door frame beside him. Safe

though the fight might be for others, it was bad business for Henshew or Shark to seek battle with The

The net result was badly against The Shadow. His pass at Henshew, his shots at Shark, seemed proof that he

must be a raiding criminal. Lashing back and forth through Henshew's gloomy dining room, The Shadow was

hard pressed by fighters who tried to down him with clubs and guns. Only the press of numbers helped The

Piling one man upon another, The Shadow suddenly cleared a path; but it led only to the window.

He went through the frame, glass and all, with a crash that seemed to head him for the street below. The

Shadow was counting upon an outside cornice that he had used before. He clutched it; swung down and

Even then, The Shadow's path was not clear. Police had arrived in the rear street; they were piling up into the

Shouts were given by pursuers who raced to the floor beneath Henshew's. They saw The Shadow on the

stairway, as he came through. Cut off one floor above the street level, The Shadow took to another apartment.

He reached a window and crawled along a wider ledge, to reach the corner of the building.

THOUGH The Shadow had chosen the most obscure direction and had slipped completely from sight, he had

reached a limit. He could gain nothing by traveling farther, and retreat was hopeless.

Searchers were all along the street. Lights were appearing at windows. Congregating police were scouring all

parked cars. They stopped a taxi; its driver backed it into a little passage by the corner of the apartment

"Not if you don't mind us looking in and out of your hack. If you want to go chasing fares, you'd better get

Moe had stalled the motor. He jockeyed with the starter, hoping that he might catch some flash from The

As cops shifted into the passage, Moe heard a low, sibilant whisper, that seemed to come from somewhere

The policeman looked around, saw no one. Moe started the motor and reached above his head. Moe's cab was

of the latest type, with the sliding top that opened above the rear seat, in sunny weather. He slid the roof

space wide. As the cab moved slowly forward, a figure swished from the ledge just above it. Though the

landing was a light one, Moe felt the slight jar. He swung the cab out into the street and drove away. Officers

Meanwhile, another hand was sliding the roof shut. The lastminute passenger was obscured in the interior

The cab went past the last searchers, just as lights shone from the apartment house window, at the very corner

Henshew's apartment was deserted except for two men. One was Henshew; Shark was with him. Shark had

started to join the searchers in their hunt for The Shadow. It was Henshew who held him back. As they stood

"You can't get by with it, Shark. You've got to get out of here! Pick a new hideaway."

"He's made it!" Henshew's tone was rueful. "Those dubs will never bag him. What's more, he's grabbed the

Shark greeted that news with an ugly oath. Henshew was cooler. The mastercrook was thinking ahead.

"The game's through, Shark," he said. "We could call it quits if we still had the gems."

"Perhaps not." Henshew's tone was speculative. "He might drop them somewhere. If he does, I can reclaim

Henshew paused. Shark knew that an idea was due. He heard Henshew's low, gritted laugh.

"We can get something better," declared Henshew. "Leave it to me, Shark. I've got a plan for a final cleanup

that will make up for the gems and give us cash besides. One that The Shadow will never guess is coming,

HENSHEW nudged Shark out to the stairway. On the way, Shark told him where the new hideout would be.

He said, though, that he was not going straight there. It would be better to shake off any bulls who might

"You'd better show yourself, Shark," he said, "so there'll be no doubt that you were here. That will give me

the alibi I need. Remember, though, The Shadow knows a lot. If you run into him "

"I'll croak him!" Shark showed new boldness. "And if I find any other guy that looks wise, I'll do the same for

Shark went down the stairs. He saw a clear path through the lobby, with taxis on the front street. The chase

had not caused commotion there. That was what Shark wanted. He made a dash through to the front, leaped

into a cab and shoved a gun against the driver's neck. The cab started in a hurry.

Arriving police saw Shark and recognized him in the light; but he was away before they could halt him.

Shark abandoned the cab a few blocks away and jumped aboard a parked coupe of his own. He had a long

Moe's cab, meanwhile, had reached the hotel where Kent Allard was a guest. Commissioner Weston's big

official car had just pulled up in front when the cab rounded the corner. The Shadow dropped off at the place

When Weston and Clyde Burke were admitted to the suite by one of the Xinca servants, Kent Allard

appeared sleepily from a bedroom. He was attired in a dressing gown; but he became alert as he shook hands

The tingling of the telephone bell was answered by Allard. He heard a query for Weston and turned the phone

"An attempted robbery at Henshew's apartment!" exclaimed Weston. "Inspector Cardona had just arrived

"Burke is a newspaper man," smiled Allard. "He would probably prefer to accompany you, commissioner."

Clyde gave a nod of thanks for Allard's suggestion. He departed with Weston. Kent Allard remained alone in

his chair by the window, staring out over the city. His eyes could note the reflection of the darkened pane. He

saw the Xincas retire to their quarters, knowing that their master preferred to remain alone.

The whispered tone that came from Allard's lips was one that the Indians had never heard him utter in the

jungle. It was like an echo of a strident mirth those same lips had delivered tonight.

THROUGH his penetrative knowledge of Madden Henshew's methods, The Shadow had put a bad crimp in

the crimeleader's game. Moreover, The Shadow had gained insight into the plans of Michael Chanbury, the

only other person who had been keen enough to suspect Henshew as the man behind robberies and murders.

Tonight, Henshew had received a sheer jolt, through the loss of the gems that had been his chief stock in

trade. By lurking at Henshew's until the crook returned, The Shadow had impressed his identity on both

There could be no doubt in their minds regarding the removal of the jewels. They would figure that those

All that Henshew had gained was a temporary breathing spell. By posing as an intended victim who had

luckily escaped death, Henshew would be firmly established with the law. Later, under pretext of an extended

business trip, Henshew could decamp entirely from New York. In such event, Shark would join him

There remained one opportunity, however, that Henshew would never let pass. The Shadow had left

Henshew the chance to launch Shark Meglo into one more crime; a stroke that would lift the total of their

The move could not come tonight. Henshew was tied up with the law, giving details of the havoc at his

apartment. Shark was dodging the police, shaking off trailers while he sought a new hideout. Crime seemed

Tomorrow, with full reports at his disposal, The Shadow could prepare against Henshew's last campaign.

Freakish chance sometimes disturbed a waiting game. On this occasion The Shadow could foresee no likely

combination of circumstances that would cause trouble before tomorrow. Every one who might figure in later

events was present in their proper place. Whatever their purposes, all should stay fixed.

It happened, however, that crisscrossed events were due to produce new tragedy; one wherein The Shadow

AT eleven o'clock, Michael Chanbury was aroused from bed by a servant's raps upon his door. There was a

Chanbury told the servant to take the detective to the portrait room. Donning a dressing gown and slippers,

"Why have you come so late?" queried Chanbury. "If you wanted to see me, you should have called earlier. I

have been home all evening, with not a thing to do. After I have gone to bed, you arrive."

"I've got big news, Mr. Chanbury," explained Tyrune, breathlessly. "It couldn't wait! There was a robbery at

"What!" Chanbury came to his feet, behind the desk. "When did that happen, Tyrune?"

"At nine o'clock just after Henshew got back from Philadelphia. And who do you think pulled the job?

"That ruins our theory," said the dick. "Henshew is on the level. I was down there, after I heard about it. The

place was a wreck! Shark and his outfit just about ruined it. Joe Cardona was there getting the details "

"I don't think so. I was going to call you on the telephone, but I changed my mind. Too many people there. I

Chanbury seated himself at his desk. He pressed a buzzer to summon a servant. He asked if Miss Merwood

had retired; the servant replied that she was reading in the library. Chanbury requested her presence in the

While they were waiting, Chanbury told Tyrune that he intended to dictate a statement, and that he wanted

careful check on every detail. Tyrune nodded wisely, although he wondered just what new theory Chanbury

Eleanor arrived. She seemed surprised to find Chanbury and Tyrune in conference:

"I didn't know that you would need me this evening, Mr. Chanbury," said the girl. "You weren't here when I

Chanbury explained that he had not intended to do any work, and had, therefore, retired early. Tyrune's late

visit had called for this special session. Noting a calendar on the desk, he began a statement that Eleanor

"ON the evening of the sixth," declared Chanbury, "James Tyrune entered the apartment of Madden

Henshew, in search of evidence regarding the Silsam robbery. He effected entry with a special passkey,

copied from one that he previously examined in the janitor's office. The special key is in our possession, as

"The facts are," replied Tyrune, "only I don't just know whether I had the right to go there."

"Add this, Eleanor," ordered Chanbury. "Tyrune's action was done at the order of Michael Chanbury."

Eleanor transcribed the statement; Tyrune looked relieved. Chanbury opened a desk drawer, to bring out the

"Tyrune uncovered settings in the drawer of Henshew's writing desk. He did not, however, find the secret

"Wait a minute, Mr. Chanbury," broke in Tyrune. "The gems weren't at Henshew's at all!"

"I mean that Shark didn't make a grab tonight," explained Tyrune. "He raided Henshew's apartment, and shot

it all to pieces! Somebody maybe it was The Shadow was on his trail, to give him a battle. Half of Shark's

"Henshew. He said he couldn't understand why Shark came there, unless it was a grudge. Henshew swears

"The fox!" he exclaimed. "I see his big game. Of course, he couldn't let the police see that secret strong box

Tyrune started to say something. Chanbury stopped him with a wave. To Eleanor, he dictated:

"On the same night, the sixth, Henshew visited Michael Chanbury, to show him a collection of gems. We

Forgetting the passkey, Chanbury produced the list of the gems that he had copied from memory. He

handed it to Eleanor, with instructions to type it later. To Tyrune, Chanbury said:

"Henshew will come here again, to inform me privately that the gems were actually stolen from his

apartment. He will request me to keep the matter confidential. I shall have to agree, because Henshew could

TYRUNE seemed puzzled. He was stroking his pointed chin. Eleanor had taken down Chanbury's statement

to the detective; she was about to cross it out, when Chanbury told her to keep it in the record. He requested

"It is very simple," said Chanbury to Tyrune. "Henshew believes that I found out how grossly he undervalued

my uncut diamonds. Fearing future trouble, he ordered Shark to fake the apartment robbery for two purposes.

First, to make the law regard Henshew as another threatened victim; second, to give me a reason for calling

"I get it," he said. "Henshew sure is a fox! But how are you going to tag him, Mr. Chanbury?"

Chanbury sat, meditative. The prospect apparently baffled him; and Tyrune offered no suggestions. Both

were pondering when Eleanor returned, bringing the typed statement and the copied list.

Chanbury signed the statement; Tyrune added his signature. Eleanor applied her name as witness, at

"Let me think this over, Tyrune," decided Chanbury. "Of course, we must turn these facts over to the law. It

"You're right," agreed Tyrune. "Otherwise, he'll want to know why we mooched in on the case without

Chanbury folded the signed statement and the list. He placed them in an envelope, stating that he would add

"Call me when you get home. I shall wait up to hear from you. By thinking it over, I may have some idea for

a plan, if you have not struck upon one. We must put the whole story frankly when we give it to Cardona."

They were at the front door. To Eleanor, Chanbury said: "That will be all. And remember: this is confidential.

You must not mention it to any one; particularly, not to that reporter, Burke. When the time comes for him to

RIDING home in a bouncy taxi, Jim Tyrune kept muttering to himself, as he tried to solve the problem that

Chanbury had presented. There were lots of angles to that robbery at Henshew's. The sooner Cardona knew

What Tyrune was looking for was some idea of his own, to add to whatever new suggestions Chanbury might

offer. Tyrune solved the riddle to his own satisfaction, while the cab was rolling smoothly across an East

The twinkling bridge lights showed the wise, pleased grin that registered upon the private detective's face.

Yes, he had it just as he wanted it. Once home he would call Chanbury; then Cardona. Only it would be up to

Jim Tyrune was headed for the greatest event that had ever occurred in his drab career; one that would splash

his name in heavy headlines. Not often in a lifetime did a fellow have a chance to crash the front pages. Once

That part of Tyrune's guess was wrong. His name was destined to crash the news much sooner than he

IT was past midnight when Joe Cardona received a telephone call at headquarters. Joe thought it was a

Why detectives called up to say that they hadn't found Shark, was a mystery to Cardona. He was willing to

bet that if they did find Shark, Joe wouldn't know it until he read the next day's newspapers.

A dignified voice responded to Joe's gruff hello. The ace recognized the tone of Michael Chanbury. He heard

"Jim Tyrune?" returned Cardona. "No. I saw him tonight about ten o'clock at Henshew's apartment. There

"So Tyrune told me. He was here at eleven, and left at half past. He was to call me by midnight. Do you

Cardona didn't know where Tyrune lived. Jim had a habit of living at hotels when he had money; at rooming

houses when his finances were low. Cardona offered to have some one dig up the information regarding

Tyrune's present residence. That relieved Chanbury somewhat, but he had another request:

Cardona decided that he could. He promised to start at once. As he left the office, Joe had a distinct idea that

Cardona made speed to Chanbury's. In the portrait room he found Chanbury in a dressing gown. Eleanor

Chanbury produced the statement, together with the labeled passkey and the list of gems. Joe read the

"I suspected Henshew, the night that he was here. Since he mentioned gems, I asked him to bring some. It

"That's all right," assured Cardona. "But what can we prove against Henshew? It's a cinch he shoved the gems

"There must be a hiding place in the apartment. It might be behind the bookcase like the one you found

"Henshew would call that a coincidence. It's too bad he got scared; we could only have seen the gems when

Chanbury added his regret over the lost opportunity. He told Cardona that the side spaces of the room hid a

"They would be ideal to watch from," declared Chanbury. "But Henshew will never bring those jewels here

CHANBURY produced the uncut diamonds in their chamois bag. He opened the top, let Joe see the contents.

"Henshew valued these at half," explained Chanbury. "He wanted to take them for the gems. Today I called

him, offering cash instead. He must have decided that I suspected he was crooked."

"He must have been plenty scared," remarked Cardona. "You were giving him a chance to pick up cash, with

"That's so!" exclaimed Chanbury. "Henshew should prefer cash. When Shark came, as at Silsam's, he could

Chanbury weighed the bag of gems. His blunt face showed a tight smile. His keen eyes narrowed. Slowly

"Henshew will come here to tell me that his gems were really stolen. He thinks that I shall be completely

bluffed when I read of Shark's fake raid. Henshew will have a purpose in his visit. One that will bring Shark

Holding his left palm upward, Chanbury poured the uncut diamonds with his right hand. Like shimmering

"Henshew wants these," affirmed Chanbury. "He will risk nothing, being here when Shark attacks. Shark,

having attacked Henshew once so far as the law supposes would be likely to trail wherever Henshew

Cardona looked grimly at the side walls. He saw how this room could be turned into a perfect snare to bag

"We can spring it. You have the nerve that's needed, Mr. Chanbury. If you handle Henshew right, he'll talk

Before Cardona could pick up the telephone, its bell rang. Chanbury answered, remarking to Joe: "Tyrune

probably." Instead, the call was one from headquarters. Joe took it. His face was serious when he replaced the

"They've found out where Tyrune lives," informed Cardona, "but he isn't there. You don't think he'd have

"I don't know." Chanbury's tone was doubtful. He turned about. "What would you say, Eleanor?"

"If he had intended to go there," replied the girl, "he would have asked for the passkey."

The argument was a sound one. It brought an admiring look from Cardona. He decided to have Eleanor here

with Chanbury, when Henshew came tomorrow night. The girl had sense; and her presence would lull the

"We'd better run over to Jim's," said Cardona. "He'll be there by the time we are. We'll take him down to the

CARDONA pocketed the statement and the exhibits. Chanbury went upstairs to dress. He met Cardona at the

front door; Joe said that he had called Weston's, but the commissioner was out. Cardona had left word where

They rode into Manhattan in one of Chanbury's large cars, with a chauffeur at the wheel. They found

Tyrune's boarding house on an obscure street. It look a long while to arouse the irate landlady. Her

"Why should the likes of you be rousing up innocent people?" she inquired. "First, it's the telephone. Then

you come here, disbelieving me when I tell you Mr. Tyrune ain't come home. Go up to his room and see for

Tyrune's door was locked. Cardona handled it with a skeleton key. The room was empty; the bed made up.

"Hasn't been here," said Cardona to Chanbury. Then, to the landlady: "Where's the telephone?"

Cardona found the telephone in back of the stairs. In the dark, he missed the slot and his nickel fell to the

floor. While Chanbury was out in the light, looking for change, Joe used a flashlight to find the coin. He was

in a hurry to make a call to headquarters, on the chance that Tyrune had telephoned there.

Joe saw something dark at the edge of a closet door. It was too large for a coin. He fixed the flashlight on the

Chanbury saw the spot. His coins jingled as he dropped them mechanically in his pocket. Cardona pulled

open the closed door. Out tumbled a body that seemed to uncoil as it sprawled face upward in the light.

Cardona was right. The dick was shot through the temple; and the gun that had killed him lay beside the

Telling Chanbury to stay where he was and ward off the landlady, Cardona went back through the dark hall.

He found a flimsy back door; it was locked, but it had no key. That door could be opened easily with a

THIRTY minutes later, a conference was under way in Tyrune's bedroom. Commissioner Weston had

arrived; he was talking things over with Cardona and Chanbury. On a table lay one more clue to go with the

gun that had lain beside Tyrune's body. The new evidence was a slitted bandanna handkerchief.

"Shark Meglo always wore one of these," declared Cardona, lifting the bandanna. "He must have used it

when he sneaked in here to lay for Tyrune. Henshew saw Jim down at the apartment, and was leery of the

"No prints," he said. "Shark wiped them off with the bandanna. He's a killer, but he's clumsy. He wanted to

make it look like suicide, but he was dumb enough to stow that bandanna in the ash can, out back."

"I guess this spoils our surprise for Henshew," declared the commissioner. "Henshew will back out, when he

Weston was rising. Chanbury stopped him. The grizzled art collector showed a look of inspiration.

"Why not call it suicide?" questioned Chanbury. "Shark was smart enough to think he managed to deceive us.

"Very, very good," approved Weston. He thrust out his hand. "Congratulations Chanbury! Your foresight

assures me that tomorrow's plan will work to perfection. Just one thing" Weston turned to Cardona: "You

CLYDE was in the lower hall, when Weston and Chanbury went through. Before Clyde could follow,

Cardona stopped him. Joe led the reporter back to the rear hall, where Tyrune's body still lay. Joe gave a

"A suicide," said Cardona, sorrowfully. "Too bad! Poor Jim was a good guy. Just thought he was a failure

"What about the note he left?" queried Clyde. "I suppose you found one up in his room?"

"No. There wasn't any note. Jim just said he felt like ending it all. He told it to Mr. Chanbury."

That was a neat touch getting Chanbury mentioned. It would be just the sort of stuff for Henshew to read in

the newspapers. Strolling out the door, Cardona was highly pleased with the way he had handled Clyde.

Joe was sure that Clyde had not seen the smile; and in that, Cardona was right. What Clyde did see was the

When Clyde called Burbank, he mentioned that detail. But he did not include it in the story that he wrote for

the Classic. The fact that Cardona had gone in for blue bandannas was an exclusive piece of information,

THE thwarted robbery at Henshew's made big news the next morning, for it involved Shark Meglo,

Manhattan's chief public enemy. The newspapers had it all wrong, thanks to the excitement of the persons

It was Shark who had staged the running fight through the apartment house; that, at least, was the opinion of

those present. The proof lay in the fact that after the roving battler had disappeared on the second floor, Shark

made his break through the lobby. He was credited with doubling his trail, to make a bold escape.

Henshew had prompted that theory, by giving the coolest testimony of any. He swore that he had seen Shark

shoving a man ahead of him, to make a pretense of surrender; that both had entered the fray afterward.

Henshew's shout, as he described it, was: "Get the man in back!" and the story was so good that other

Evening newspapers played second fiddle to the morning sheets by reporting the tragic aftermath of Shark's

The private dick, it seemed, had taken the man hunt as his own crusade, ever since Shark's murder of Silsam.

Jim's failure to anticipate Shark's latest raid had caused the private detective to consider life no longer worth

Henshew digested that chunk of news along with his lunch. He was most pleased to learn that Tyrune had

visited Chanbury, to voice his morbid sentiments. Henshew remembered Jim at the apartment; the fellow had

At the office, Henshew found that Chanbury had telephoned. He called the art collector, and heard

Chanbury's sad comments on the Tyrune tragedy. Changing the subject, Chanbury asked if Henshew could

Chanbury mentioned that he was dining with the police commissioner, to give a wordforword statement of

Hanging up, Henshew had a definite hunch that Shark had bumped Jim Tyrune. Shark had picked the right

Deciding not to return to his apartment after work, Henshew used the privacy of his office to engrave a

LATER that afternoon, Clyde Burke called Chanbury's. Eleanor answered; since Chanbury was present, she

said very little, except to inform the reporter that Chanbury was dining with Weston at the Cobalt Club and

intended to be there by five o'clock. She added at her employer's suggestion that the dinner was to be

When Clyde called the house at five, he learned that Chanbury had left for town and had taken his secretary

with him. That apparently blocked Clyde's chance for a talk with Eleanor. Clyde, however, was to have his

At quarter of six, Chanbury told Eleanor that she could go back to the Long Island mansion, and have her

dinner there. He instructed his chauffeur, Klander to take Miss Merwood straight to the house; and added that

The big car hadn't gone two blocks before a rear tire flattened. As Klander stepped out to look over the tire, a

taxi wheeled up. The driver pointed out a convenient garage and suggested that the chauffeur have the

Clouded skies had brought an early dusk; Eleanor could scarcely see the interior of the cab when she entered

it. She was amazed, almost terrified, when the cab swung a corner; for a light showed that she was not alone.

On each side of her were solemnfaced passengers who looked like grotesque statues. The taxi driver must

"It's all right, lady! Just a couple of Indians. A friend of yours sent 'em for a gag."

The cab was Moe's; its occupants, the Xincas who had come from Guatemala with Kent Allard. The presence

of the stolid, silent Indians evoked Eleanor's wonderment and seemed to make objection impossible. Eleanor

might have insisted on leaving the cab, had she not been in awe of those stonyfaced sentinels.

Moe drove to Allard's hotel. He opened the cab door and Eleanor alighted with the two Xincas. She went into

the hotel between them and they entered an elevator. The adventure was so uncanny that the girl decided to

see its finish, particularly since no one in the hotel seemed surprised to see the Indians.

They reached Allard's apartment; there, Eleanor gave a happy exclamation when she saw Clyde awaiting

"You're not seeing me," inserted Clyde. "You're meeting Kent Allard, the famous explorer! A friend of

CLYDE introduced Eleanor to Allard and the girl was immediately impressed by the famous personage.

What Clyde did not explain was that he had arranged this visit at The Shadow's order.

Clyde had told Allard that he wanted to see Eleanor and had asked if the meeting could be here. The explorer

had agreed; and had suggested sending the Xincas in a cab. Clyde thought that a grand idea, for Moe's cab

In a way, The Shadow had tried the plan as a test. He wanted to note if Clyde connected him, in any way,

with The Shadow. Such a link had obviously not occurred to the reporter. Nor was it to strike Clyde later,

Speaking for Clyde, Allard remarked that the reporter wanted some facts on the Tyrune suicide, which Clyde

had mentioned. Before Clyde realized it, Eleanor's reluctance had gone. She was telling Allard everything she

knew. Meeting the compelling gaze of these clear, steady eyes, the girl felt that she was talking to a friend.

Clyde listened, dumfounded, drinking in the whole story of tonight's plan. When Eleanor had finished, Allard

She told how Chanbury had retired early, to be awakened by Tyrune's arrival. She repeated the signed

statement, word for word; and described the detailed list that she had copied, to the exact number of jewels

She told of the passkey that Cardona had received along with the statement and the list. She added details of

"Henshew will arrive at nine," declared the girl. "I am to be there with Mr. Chanbury. The police will be

"No. They were permanently closed; but the servants are fitting hinges on them this afternoon."

"Before eight o'clock. With Inspector Cardona in charge. They will stay in the portrait room."

Allard had a few more questions. When he had finished, he smiled. Glancing at his watch, he remarked to

"Miss Merwood has been here twelve minutes. Perhaps she should be leaving for Long Island."

TWELVE minutes! In that time, Eleanor had related details that should ordinarily have taken half an hour.

Clyde was half dazed as he rode down in the elevator to see Eleanor off in Moe's cab. He remembered one

"You may meet someone tonight," said Clyde, in an undertone, "who will help matters a great deal. I can't tell

"Yes." Clyde spoke without hesitation. "That may be a tall order, but it's so. He's called The Shadow, and I

Eleanor smiled. She could not doubt that she would follow any orders that came from a person so unusual as

Kent Allard. What she did doubt was that she could possibly meet any one else so remarkable.

A voice spoke from the darkness beside her. Eleanor turned to meet the gaze of piercing eyes. They burned,

those eyes, like living coals; but Eleanor felt no fear. She heard the sibilant whisper of a voice that carried

"Be ready at half past seven! Signal at the side door when the way to the portrait room is clear!"

What was the identity of this stranger, who as Clyde had said was more remarkable than Allard? Allard's

eyes, thought Eleanor, were the sort that brought a sense of trust and friendship. But these burning eyes, the

They made her trust the stranger, as she had trusted Allard; but she could sense that those eyes would prove

The ride to Long Island was finished in a breathtaking period, for the cab driver had the speed of a jehu. As

they wheeled into the lights of the portico that covered Chanbury's driveway, Eleanor settled back, glad that

the trip was over. She had hardly gathered her breath before she thought of the stranger beside her.

COMPLETE darkness shrouded that Long Island mansion, during the next hour. Cloaked by the blackness,

The Shadow moved about the outside walls. His tiny flashlight showed him the extensions that had once been

He moved from one side of the house to the other, past a sloping roof at the back. His inspection completed,

He was there at half past seven. Five minutes passed before Eleanor stopped in the inner hallway, to indicate

that the way was clear. The Shadow entered; thanks to the swift silence of his glide, he was at the marble

stairs before one of Chanbury's servants came along. The hired help was keeping close vigil inside the house,

Eleanor was in the portrait room. She had gone there because she could not linger in the hallway. The girl

was about to leave, when she saw the door move inward. Fascinated, she watched a streak of blackness form

A moment later, a cloaked figure had entered. For the first time, Eleanor saw the full outline of The Shadow.

The slouch hat hid his face; but the darkness that it cast was like a background for the burning eyes that

The Shadow approached. His lips spoke in their steady whisper. The words that Eleanor heard held her

breathless. The Shadow had expected to find her in this room, he had reserved final statements until this

meeting. What Eleanor heard left her in total amazement. Only the touch of cold steel in her hand awakened

The Shadow had given Eleanor a loaded automatic of small caliber. His words told that the gun would be

Leaving the portrait room, Eleanor put the gun in a pocket of her dress. She did not return to that lower room

until eight o'clock, when Cardona arrived with the headquarters men. Eleanor was a bit qualmish, for the

Yet the room was empty; so were the side alcoves when Cardona and his men inspected them. The Shadow

was gone. Where he had gone and how, Eleanor could not imagine. She knew, though, that The Shadow

NINE o'clock found Chanbury and Eleanor in the portrait room, seated placidly among the painted faces that

stared from every wall. A servant arrived to announce Henshew. Chanbury took advantage of the last minute

"Remember," he said, in a tone of highest compliment, "I am relying on your bravery to help snare Henshew.

"If it proves impossible, you can leave. In that case, go directly to the second floor, where all the servants are.

The girl was busy at the typewriter when Henshew arrived. The machine was a noiseless one but the jewel

broker noticed Eleanor. For a moment, he appeared annoyed; then his expression became a smiling one.

Henshew liked the setup. Only one servant was on duty, a sleepy fellow who had come from the second

floor to answer the doorbell. With Eleanor present, it seemed certain that Chanbury could expect no trouble.

"Too bad about Tyrune," expressed Henshew. "The chap looked bad when I saw him last night. He stopped at

"Tell me about the attack," suggested Chanbury. "Didn't you lose anything of value?"

"A few items." Henshew's tone had a significance that Chanbury could take any way he liked. "Nothing,

Henshew gave a warning shrug; looked toward Eleanor, who was still busy at the typewriter. Chanbury

"I forgot," remarked Chanbury. "You told me that you keep all valuable gems at your office."

"Yes." Henshew reached into his pocket. "I brought along a few special items that may interest you."

THE jewels that Henshew displayed upon the desk were new ones; a topaz setting that he pronounced as

something of rare value, some amethysts that were fine specimens, but not uncommon.

Examining the gems, Chanbury guessed that Henshew was stalling for time. He tested the jeweler.

"Quite naturally," returned Henshew, smoothly. "You have never been to my office to inspect my gems. I do

not make a practice of taking stones elsewhere. Except in a few instances; then I never carry many."

The present case supported Henshew's statement. The gems that he had with him were worth a few thousand

"I expect a call from the office," added Henshew, eyeing Chanbury cannily. "They will keep open late, if I

The telephone interrupted Chanbury. He reached for it; heard a high voice inquire for Mr. Henshew.

"Back to the office?" repeated Henshew. "No, not tonight. If you want me again, I shall be here for a while."

That call was from Shark, another fact that Chanbury had guessed. The art collector listened indulgently

while Henshew discussed the merits of the topaz settings. Each passing minute showed a tightness of

Henshew's tone, until the visitor noted that Chanbury's desk clock had reached half past nine.

Leaning across the desk, Henshew stated in a tone loud enough for Eleanor to hear:

"Regarding those uncut diamonds, Chanbury. I should like to see them again. I feel that I may have

Chanbury produced the chamois bag. Henshew examined the diamonds as he spread them on the desk.

"Worth much more," he declared. "I might be prepared to pay you four hundred thousand dollars for them."

"Those jewels were stolen," he declared. "It is all right for you to know it, Chanbury, but it would ruin my

business if people learned that I had been foolish enough to keep them in my apartment. They are gone!"

"All of them?" Chanbury whipped out his penciled list. "All these that I jotted down from memory?"

Henshew's eyes stared at the list. For a few seconds his lips showed an ugliness that he usually concealed.

"I thought so!" Chanbury came to his feet. "Henshew, that is just what I wanted to hear you say. I have a

witness Miss Merwood who has heard everything you stated. You have told so much that you can afford

to tell more. I know, at last, that those jewels were the ones that belonged to Hugo Silsam!"

HENSHEW had risen also. He was stepping toward the door; but he was not disconcerted. Instead, he

Henshew hauled the door open. On the threshold stood Shark, a trio of triggermen behind him. Those three

men were the only thugs that Shark had been able to muster; but Shark's contemptuous look showed that he

Entering, Shark covered Chanbury with a big revolver, and nudged to a follower, who swung a gun toward

"Take it easy, Shark," suggested Henshew. "The way it's going, I might as well leave first. I can talk to the

"Sure!" agreed Shark. "Go build your alibi. We'll fix the flunky afterwards. There was nobody around when

With a narrow look at Chanbury, Shark stepped closer to the desk and picked up the uncut diamonds, to pass

"You handle these," suggested the killer. "Nobody will know the dif. Keep 'em in your safedeposit vault,

In turning toward Henshew, Shark let his gun swing slightly away from Chanbury. The thug who was

covering Eleanor was telling a pal that the girl was a swelllooking dame, but that he didn't mind croaking a

Side panels hoisted wide. Guns roared as Cardona and his men played a set policy of no quarter to the known

murderer, Shark Meglo. Before Shark could even squeeze his trigger, he was loaded with lead from four

Two other police revolvers took care of the rogue who covered Eleanor. Shark and the thug hit the floor

Motioning his hands downward, Chanbury dropped behind the desk. Eleanor was behind the typewriter table

before Chanbury waved. Shark's last pair of gunners had their revolvers up, to shoot it out with the law.

They didn't have a chance. Quick bullets sprawled them; detectives snatched up the dropped guns before the

Cardona had Henshew by the neck. The gem schemer was groping for his pocket, but his hands went limp as

Joe choked him. Selfconfessed brain in the jewelmurder game, Henshew was a prize that Cardona wanted

to take alive. Henshew subsided; from a mastercrook, he had become a cowering prisoner.

Clamping bracelets on him, Joe flung Henshew into a chair so hard that the handcuffs rattled.

"That cleans things up," announced Cardona, as detectives looked to the wounded men. "Shark did his last

dirty job, when he murdered Tyrune. A good guy Jim! He helped us, even after he was gone. But you

"I won't." Joe shook hands with Eleanor. "You were game, Miss Merwood. I'll bet if the same thing happened

CARDONA'S praise was halted by a peal of muffled mirth, that presaged the very event of which Joe spoke.

The chilling laugh loudened, as a clatter occurred at the back of the room. Past Chanbury, Cardona saw an

The Shadow was stepping from a third alcove, in the very center of the rear wall one that had a swinging

panel, on concealed hinges. Henshew, gaping from his chair, quailed at sight of the ominous avenger.

Of all who saw The Shadow, one alone expected his arrival. That was Eleanor Merwood. Her happy gasp told

that, to her, The Shadow's return was the needed climax in the exposure of hidden crime.

THE SHADOW stood with folded arms as he faced the group before him. He had left past work to others; he

could rely upon new cooperation when he required it. In whispered tone, he reminded Joe Cardona:

It dawned on Joe that Shark had spoken of the uncut diamonds and cash in Henshew's possession, but no

word of the gems that had been used in the round of murders. Cardona supposed that they would be found in

As The Shadow faced the center of the room, his burning eyes had an effect like those of certain portraits on

the walls. They seemed to bore toward every one who viewed them. Henshew felt that the stare was meant

"You have them! You took them from my apartment! That was why you waited there "

The Shadow's words cut Henshew short. In steady monotone, the cloaked avenger, disputed Henshew's

"I waited," declared The Shadow, "because the gems were gone. Some one had rifled that hiding place, to

The Shadow stepped aside. Within the space where he had been, others saw the door of a builtin vault, set

deep. Eleanor gazed, amazed. She had never known that Chanbury possessed that secret strong room, behind

Eleanor had never studied the outside wall as The Shadow had done tonight. He had found a projection in

The sweep of The Shadow's hand indicated the closed safe. The gesture made words unnecessary. Henshew

"Chanbury took the gems!" exclaimed the jewel broker. "He knew that I had them! He was the only one "

Henshew stopped. Chanbury was not the only one who had known. Henshew could not forget The Shadow.

The words, however, had given Cardona an idea. Joe voiced it, straight to Chanbury.

"So that's why you had Tyrune snoop at Henshew's. Open that safe, Chanbury! We'll have a look!"

CHANBURY was pointing to The Shadow. The grizzled man's voice became hollow as he heard a whispered

laugh. The Shadow's tone, like the look of the heavylocked vault, belied Chanbury's accusation. Perhaps

The Shadow was reputed to have amazing skill at opening vaults, but there was no one to testify to it.

If Henshew's gems were found in Chanbury's vault, the law would believe that Chanbury had placed them

there. It would be odd, indeed, to find anyone even The Shadow bestowing a quarter million dollars'

"What if I do have the gems?" challenged Chanbury. "I've laid everything else in the open! I intended to do

the same with the jewels I took from Henshew's! I couldn't let it out too soon."

"You never intended to!" cried Henshew. "You took the swag to scare me off. You thought maybe I'd quit

and let you have the jewels. But if I came here like I was fool enough to do tonight I'd find the law here

waiting. Maybe you'd like to know what I'd have done, if I'd known you had them gems. I'll tell you. I would

Henshew's admission was small comfort to Chanbury. The Shadow had played crook against crook. Henshew

vengeful toward Chanbury, was using his own keen brain to supply facts that The Shadow could have stated.

When Henshew finished, Chanbury indulged in a dry smile. He felt that he could still square himself with the

law; and he had good reason to so believe. Shark Meglo lay dead upon the floor. Chanbury's eyes glistened

when he viewed the body. Others were watching him; so Chanbury was prompt to declare:

"There lies a murderer! Henshew is the man who backed the killer! All that I did was to save innocent lives."

The Shadow's tone was sinister. Chanbury glared as he met the burning eyes. Turning to Eleanor, The

Shadow spoke a question. Oddly his voice had changed its tone, so slightly that it was apparent only to the

girl. Yet Eleanor, strained for the test to come, did not realize that she was again speaking to Kent Allard. She

"At quarter of eight," replied the girl. Without waiting for another question, she added: "Mr. Chanbury said

that he had retired early; but it couldn't have been as early as that. I thought that Mr. Chanbury was not here

"No. He gave me the evening off. But Tyrune seemed to think that Mr. Chanbury had been here, or should

"About the passkey marked Exhibit A. Did Chanbury show it to Tyrune when he mentioned it?"

"No," replied Eleanor. "He started to look for it in the desk drawer but did not find it. I never saw the key

"And in mentioning Henshew's apartment," prompted The Shadow, "did Chanbury merely suspect there was

"He said there was one," returned Eleanor. "But he said that before Tyrune told him that Henshew said

HENSHEW was out of his chair, shaking his handcuffed wrists toward Chanbury as he shrilled:

"That tells it! Tyrune guessed what had happened. He knew you'd sneaked out of here to grab my gems. You

forgot to put back the passkey, didn't you? Left it in your coat upstairs. And you topped it by mentioning the

"Silence him, Cardona!" snapped Chanbury. "I have the gems. I have admitted the possession of them. That

"That you murdered Jim Tyrune!" cackled Henshew, in insane enjoyment. "He was honest. He was through

with you. He was going to call Cardona when he got home. That's what he was starting to do at the

Henshew settled back into his chair maddened by his own choking laughter. Above the crook's highpitched

Chanbury's fists were on the desk, his arms straining to support his body. He steadied; his knee raised slightly

to nudge the buzzer below the desk top. Only The Shadow saw the motion. Rallied, Chanbury coughed his

"You found Shark's mask," he voiced to Cardona. "That was proof against the killer "

"A funny thing, that mask" inserted Cardona grimly. "Come to think of it, it was the first one Shark ever

dumped. You know, Chanbury, they sell lots of bandannas, in every five and ten. It's easy to cut slits in them

It was Joe's turn to talk and he was doing it. He stopped only to learn if Chanbury had something to say.

Chanbury stopped; he had seen The Shadow turn away. The Shadow was noting portraits on the wall. As his

"Faces from the past. I remember this one. Its owner thought the portrait was genuine; it was later declared a

"Like my father did!" exclaimed Eleanor. "His paintings were proven false! He couldn't believe it. That is

WITH those words, The Shadow's eyes met Eleanor's. His gaze called for action that The Shadow had told

her would be needed. His back toward Chanbury, The Shadow was playing his master stroke. He was giving

Chanbury took it. Springing back from the desk, he yanked a gun from his pocket and aimed straight for The

Shadow. The cloaked form faded; but its shift was unnecessary. Eleanor had acted at The Shadow's signal.

She had the automatic from her pocket; she pressed the trigger before Chanbury could fire.

The crook staggered, a bullet in his elbow. Cardona and the detectives were surging for him. Their revolvers

withered him as he tried to prop his right hand with his left. The grizzled crook rolled forward on the desk;

There was a clatter in the hall. Chanbury had counted on his servants; they were here, but too late to rescue

him, thanks to the crippling shot that Eleanor had supplied. Crooks to the core, the armed invaders were

Blackness blocked the door in front of them. Big automatics sprawled the foremost of the band. Others flung

their guns aside; they cowered, arms raised in surrender. The Shadow's laugh echoed along the gallery. The

The mocking tone faded. Into the room came Chanbury's followers, herded by The Shadow. Detectives

clapped handcuffs on them. Cardona drew Henshew from his chair. The prisoners began their slow march

The girl gave one glance as she left. Faces from the past reflected her gaze: those wall portraits, to which

Eleanor had become accustomed. But there were other faces here tonight, as stilled as painted ones.

They stared from the floor. Shark Meglo's, the face of a murderer; beyond that, the face of Michael

Chanbury. Frozen in death, Chanbury's visage had lost its mask of pretense. Its hardened lines showed the

Madden Henshew, clever man of crime, had been trapped through the genius of a crook greater than himself.

The Shadow had allowed that outcome, that he might bring a similar disaster upon Henshew's crooked

No longer did The Shadow linger in the mansion. His triumph finished, he had departed, while the law was

rounding up the last prisoners that he had given them. Only Cardona was with Eleanor when she walked

Yet a presence still lingered one that had dominated from the start. Every move by men of crime had been

under The Shadow's surveillance until the conquest of evil stood complete. Only The Shadow could have

The lines of portraits seemed to smile from the walls of the long gallery, as if they knew that they alone had