suppose that he arrived too late to see Mr. Henshew?'
'Mr. Chanbury?'
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; hence Chanbury had made no appointment.
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 club, and he had probably arranged a large evening.
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 to visit Henshew's apartment before the crook returned.
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 enthusiasm when he stopped at the Classic office at five thirty.
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:
'Hello, Mr. Burke! This is Eleanor Merwood. Remember?'
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 to call the Classic office and inform him.
'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 decided he wouldn't need me any longer. So I came in town.'
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; but said she could meet Clyde another time.
'I'll have dinner alone, and be home early,' she said. 'I can finish some work that I was putting off until tomorrow. I may have another free evening soon.'
'By the way,' remarked Clyde, 'I was at Henshew's at five. I learned that Mr. Chanbury called there.
Was it anything that might mean news?'
'I don't know,' replied Eleanor, frankly. 'I called the number for Mr. Chanbury, but I was not in the room when he talked to Mr. Henshew.'
THE dinner at the Cobalt Club proved a dull affair, attended by a quota of stuffed-shirt members, who asked Kent Allard useless questions regarding his experiences in Guatemala. Everything that they asked had been printed in the newspapers; and Clyde expected to see Allard show impatience.
Instead, the famous aviator maintained his usual calm and answered everything in concise fashion.
At eight-fifteen, 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 the foyer, Weston questioned:
'When can we get together again, Allard?'
'In about an hour.' Allard's lips showed a slight smile. 'I have an appointment; after that, I shall be free at the hotel.'
'Couldn't you come back here?'
'It might be too late. But you are welcome to call, commissioner.'
Returning to the banquet room, Weston met Clyde. He said to the reporter:
'Stay around, Burke. We may drop in on Allard along about half past nine.'
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 directly in Moe's cab, donning his cloak and hat while he rode.
After rolling slowly along the darkened rear street, Moe knew that his passenger was gone. Moe circled the block and parked in a convenient spot, to await The Shadow's return.
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 unforeseen had delayed The Shadow in Henshew's apartment.
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 flashlight.
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 baldish crook had lost his confidence. He was feverish in his haste.
Henshew managed to fake an unruffled appearance when he went downstairs in the elevator. He spoke calmly to the doorman, when he said:
'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 call to Shark's hide-out.
Shark's voice answered with disguised gruffness. With whispered pant, Henshew spoke his own name from the telephone booth. Shark asked the trouble.
'Some one in the apartment!' wheezed Henshew. 'I don't know who it is - only I saw him searching there!'
'You saw him, huh?'
'I saw a light that he was using -'
'Then it wasn't The Shadow.' Shark's growl was a confident one. 'Whatta you want me to do? Take care of it the way we arranged?'
'If there's still time -'
'Don't worry. There will be. I'll handle the lug!'
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 and had them wrapped in a large bundle.
OUTSIDE, Henshew walked nervously around the block. He knew that Shark would arrive very soon, for the killer had shifted to a new hide-out. It was in a disreputable district that encroached upon big apartment houses quite close to Henshew's residence.
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 that Henshew had circled the block, he guessed that Shark was due.
Lugging his package, Henshew hurried along another block; saw a cab and boarded it. He rode to the apartment house, only a twenty-cent fare; but he handed the taxi driver a half dollar and told him to keep the change.
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
