at King Furzman’s this evening. From that point, The Shadow had taken up Graham’s own trail.
Tomorrow night, The Shadow would again be at King Furzman’s, there to learn what Graham Wellerton intended. Graham’s smile increased. He thought of the two visitors who had been in this room tonight.
Carma.
Graham had tricked her. She fully expected him to remain in New York. Once he had started for a distant city with his mob, Graham felt sure that he could successfully lose the woman who had been his Nemesis. She would not be able to find him.
The Shadow.
There was a more potent enemy. Yet Graham Wellerton felt sure that he had tricked The Shadow also. Tomorrow night, Graham would not visit King Furzman. A telephone call to the big shot would serve instead of a personal call.
With King Furzman warned, with Wolf Daggert lying low, with Graham Wellerton out of New York, The Shadow would be frustrated in any effort to break this ring of crime. Graham, now, would be the only active worker; by the time he could be traced, he would be bound to another destination.
Still smiling, the gentleman of crime stared at the spot of carpeting which now was clear of the blackened silhouette. Graham Wellerton had seen the visible sign of The Shadow. Forewarned, he was prepared to deceive the master who battled crime.
CHAPTER V
THE WARNING
ANOTHER evening had come to Manhattan. King Furzman was seated in the room where he received his visitors. The big shot was anticipating the arrival of Graham Wellerton. Tonight, Furzman was to hear his lieutenant’s plans.
The big shot drew a heavy gold watch from his pocket and noted the time as half past eight. Wellerton was due to arrive at any minute. Furzman, as he chewed the end of a fat cigar, wondered just what locality the daring gentleman crook intended to invade.
Not once did Furzman glance toward the heavy curtains that hung between this room and the next. The big shot did not notice the strange, sinister blot that projected from those draperies. Less sensitive than Graham Wellerton, King Furzman failed to gain an inkling that the hidden eyes of The Shadow were upon him.
Minutes drifted by; then came a knock from the door at the other side of the room. Gouger entered in response to Furzman’s growl. The bodyguard announced that Graham Wellerton was calling on the telephone.
“Tell him to come up,” ordered the big shot.
“He’s not downstairs,” returned Gouger. “He’s calling from outside somewhere -“
“Bring me the telephone,” interposed Furzman brusquely.
Gouger went back into the far room, then returned with the telephone, dragging a long extension wire after him. He handed the instrument to the big shot, who took it without even moving from his chair.
“Hello, Wellerton,” greeted Furzman. “Where are you?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” came the reply. “Are you alone, there in the apartment?”
“Gouger’s here.”
“Send him away” - Graham’s voice came in a guarded tone - “and listen carefully to what I have to say. Don’t repeat anything. This is very important.”
“All right,” returned Furzman, in a puzzled tone. “Wait a second.”
The big shot made a motion with the telephone, indicating that Gouger should leave. The bodyguard went back through the far doorway.
“Gouger’s gone,” informed Furzman. “Go ahead. Spill what you’ve got to say.”
“Just a minute.” Graham’s voice carried a warning note as it came across the wire. “Hold the phone away from your ear, King. See if my voice can be heard.”
STILL puzzled, but convinced by Graham’s impressive tone that the matter was important, Furzman obeyed the injunction. He noted that Graham’s next words were hopelessly indistinct when heard without receiver to ear.
“Can’t make outa thing,” said Furzman, again speaking into the mouthpiece. “Your voice doesn’t carry at all, the way you’re talking. What’s up, Wellerton? What’s the idea -“
“Easy, King!” Graham’s voice was low but distinct. “I’m putting you wise to something important. Don’t say a word to give away what I’m telling you. Someone may be listening.”
“Where?”
“In your apartment.”
“Who?”
“The Shadow!”
King Furzman sat in momentary bewilderment. As he waited, unable to speak because of his surprise, he heard new information coming across the wire.
“I’m over in Jersey, King,” declared Graham. “I’m here with the mob. We’re starting out tonight for Grand Rapids, Michigan. We’re going to knock off a couple of banks out there and -“
“You’re coming here first?”
“Sh-h!” Graham’s voice hissed across the wire. “I’m not taking any chances, King. The Shadow was covering me last night. He may be laying up at your place right now - waiting for me to show up. That’s why I don’t want to come there.”
“I see,” commented King, nervously glancing about him.
“Our first job” - Graham’s voice was still cautious - “will be the Riverview Trust in Grand Rapids. Listen, King - Wolf Daggert pulled a big mistake by coming up to see you last night. The Shadow was on his trail then - now he’s on mine. But I’m sliding out on him.
“Keep Wolf away. Tell him you don’t want to see him. Count on me for a while. I’ll get the gravy you want. Watch things until you’re sure that The Shadow isn’t going to bother you.
“We’re heading West - in cars - and we’ll be two nights on the road. We’re going to hold up the Riverview the night after we get to Grand Rapids. I know all about the bank - it does a big night business, It’s a set-up -“
“Say, Wellerton,” interrupted King Furzman, “if this stuff is on the level as -“
“It is on the level,” came back Graham’s quick response. “It’s a tough situation, King. Don’t take any chances. I’ve given you the lay; you know what I’m going to do. You can’t be too careful.”
All of King Furzman’s doubts were dispelled. The big shot found himself becoming nervous. Wolf’s theory that The Shadow had broken up the robbery yesterday noon; Graham’s convincing statements that The Shadow was following up the victory - these were sufficient for King Furzman.
“I’ve got you, Wellerton,” he declared, in a decisive tone. “Go ahead with the lay the way you’ve planned it. When will I hear from you?”
“I’ll get word to you,” returned Graham. “But I want you to be sure that The Shadow’s not on deck before I come back to New York.”
“All right,” said Furzman. “Leave that part of it to me.”
A click came over the wire. The big shot hung up. He mopped his forehead thoughtfully; then began a succession of nervous glances, his gaze traveling to all corners of the room.
Almost before his eyes, the black streak that indicated The Shadow performed a fadeout. The big shot did not notice the motion of darkness on the door.
“Gouger!”
The bodyguard appeared in answer to Furzman’s summons. The big shot made a sweeping motion with his hand.
“Look around the place,” he said. “Make sure there’s no snoopers here.”
“Not a chance,” rejoined Gouger. “Say, King - the way I keep that outside door locked -“
“Take a look anyway,” ordered the big shot.
WONDERING, Gouger walked out between the curtains. He was heading for the anteroom to begin his search. King Furzman picked up the telephone. He dialed a number.
