a swath along the three-mile stretch to the Lodi hacienda. Other lights were on the water, marking more boats bound for the same destination.
Everyone, it seemed, was anxious to visit Lodi's, where the spirits of the dead were scheduled to be the life of the party. The seances of Professor Scorpio were well liked by the residents of the Calada colony.
Only a few of the more privileged persons, like Henry Denwood, knew the full truth of the coincidental robberies that had occurred along with Scorpio's recent public appearances.
What Denwood knew, The Shadow had learned. Perhaps Denwood, along with others, doubted that another robbery would occur upon this occasion. Suspicion was closing in upon Professor Scorpio, even though facts remained unproven. With three robberies topped by murder, even the nerviest of supercrooks might deem it wise to call a short halt for a breathing spell.
The Shadow deemed otherwise. He had analyzed the case of Professor Scorpio and saw possibilities that others had not guessed. Confident that his conjectures were correct, The Shadow considered his arrival at Lake Calada most timely.
In fact, he could not have picked a better time. This was to be another night of crime!
CHAPTER IV. HANDS IN THE DARK.
THE living room of the Lodi hacienda was crowded. All eyes were upon Professor Scorpio, as the bearded mystic stood in front of a little alcove making his introductory speech.
Scorpio was wearing a long, white robe studded with mystic symbols; he had on a turban. Beside him, set in high metal standards, were two great torches, as yet unlighted.
Smooth-toned, careful in his choice of words, the professor was stating his case in very certain terms, meant for the benefit of those who might mistrust him.
Scorpio described himself as one of the early residents of Lake Calada. He asserted that he had chosen this spot because of its altitude; that it rivaled the mountain fastness of the Himalayas, in India, where the greatest of mystics abounded.
He reminded his listeners that they had come here of their own accord, building their lodges and bungalows on what were rightfully his preserves. For several years, they had appreciated Scorpio's seances, and the contributions which they gave him had been quite voluntary on their part and quite satisfactory on his.
Scorpio's speech, summed up in a few words, meant that he had built up a nice racket and did not care to lose it. That was a point that brought the faintest semblance of a smile to the lips of one listener: namely, Lamont Cranston.
'Strange things have occurred among these heights,' concluded Scorpio, deepening his voice to its sepulchral tone. 'Odd happenings over I which have no control. The answer'-he pointed a bony finger upward-'can be given only by the stars!
'Who am I to account for the disappearance of objects, or even of people? Who am I to pronounce myself master over life and death? I can declare the future only through the stars; to learn the past, I am dependent upon the spirits.'
His statements were an excellent alibi. By the mention of disappearing objects, Scorpio referred indirectly to stolen goods; by people, he meant persons such as Denwood's servant, Horace. His talk of life and death covered the murder of Drury.
Then, as he was lighting a waxen taper, Professor Scorpio had an afterthought. Cunningly, he turned to his listeners and declared:
'There are those among you who can testify to the strangeness of these mountains. Those who have seen the mystic creature of the lake, that glides with silence through the heart of night. Let those who are fearful leave this enchanted domain; those who are bold may remain.'
The Shadow gave an interrogatory glance to Denwood and Harry. They supplied information that they had forgotten to mention. It referred to the 'creature' described by Scorpio.
'You've heard of the Loch Ness Monster, undertoned Denwood. 'The sea serpent seen on a lake in Scotland. Somebody started a similar rumor here, about such a creature gliding through the water late at night.'
'But no one is on the lake late at night,' added Harry, in a whisper, 'unless they're coming home from a party. Around here, they give parties that are parties. Some of the witnesses say they saw two of the monsters, which gives an idea of how much their word is worth.'
Those side comments came while Scorpio was lighting the torches. Again, it was a matter of an alibi.
Professor Scorpio was using a local rumor to back up his mystic claims.
Looking around the room, The Shadow noted other faces. There were some thirty persons present; most of them seemed to believe in Professor Scorpio. Of all the enraptured throng, the most conspicuous was Paula Lodi; owner of the hacienda.
PAULA LODI was a pronounced blonde, large-eyed and droopy-mouthed. She was registering a soulful expression that had proven a real tear-jerker when she displayed it in motion pictures. The trouble with Paula was that she looked older and stouter in real life, than in the movies.
Make-up could help her acquire a younger appearance; but it would take diet and exercise to restore the sleekness that had made her famous.
Meanwhile, Paula seemed to be enjoying her enforced vacation. She was clad in black because it was the best color as a background for her jewels.
As Denwood had guessed, she was wearing all her gems. Her fingers were encrusted with rings, her wrists massed by bracelets. She wore a diamond brooch and an emerald necklace. Even her ankles were circled by jeweled bangles.
Looking across the room, The Shadow saw Lois Melvin. Contrasted to the famous Paula Lodi, the brunette was a creature of simple but effective charm. She needed no jewels to enhance her beauty. Her trim figure seemed remarkably lithe and shapely when compared to Paula's.
Lois wore an expression of doubt. She was remembering Scorpio's horoscope, wondering how much truth there was in it. She didn't want to believe in the professor's powers, yet she could not declare them wholly false. She was saying something of the sort to Niles Rundon, who stood near her.
The square-jawed man gave a depreciating smile and remarked that Professor Scorpio was nothing more than a good guesser.
Apparently, Rundon did not like Scorpio, but he was not bitter about it. The man who really detested Scorpio was Howard Carradon, the husband of Paula Lodi. Seated near the movie actress, Carradon was showing a glower on his sharp but rather handsome face. He looked ready to choke Scorpio at a moment's notice.
Off in a corner stood Sheriff Kirk. He was fingering his badge and chewing a toothpick. Beside him was a half-filled glass; the sheriff took a long swallow from it. He evidently figured that he needed a drink in order to feel sober in a crazy scene like this.
The torches were ablaze. Professor Scorpio requested that other lights be extinguished. A servant pressed the light switches at the door which led to the veranda. Wavering flames illuminated the scene, except for a glitter near front of the group. The glitter came from Paul Lodi's jewels.
'You must move back a bit, Miss Lodi.' declared Scorpio, courteously. 'We need the light of the torches: nothing more.'
Paula shifted her chair farther into the audience. The glitter of the gems diminished, satisfying the professor. All was still among the throng, as Scorpio began a strange, deep-voiced chant-a summons to the dead.
Reaching up beneath his evening coat, The Shadow drew a hidden garment downward. It was a black cloak; from its folds rolled a flattened slouch hat. Though both Harry and Denwood were so close that they could touch him, neither saw the transformation whereby Lamont Cranston became The Shadow.
The reason was simple. Scorpio's torches were set high. Beneath them were bronze disks that kept the light from the floor. The flames looked powerful, but a mere glance at the ceiling showed that they reflected very little light.
Sometimes fake mediums used red lamp bulbs to produce a 'lighted' scene. Red bulbs were a cute trick, for they weren't much better than total darkness. But Scorpio was going that stunt one better. His flickering torches, with all their show, were no stronger than half a dozen candles, and their glow was neatly deflected.
Cloaked in black, his slouch hat drawn down across his eyes, The Shadow was crouching along the floor of the room, getting closer to Scorpio's preserves.
The professor was visible because his attire was white, and enough of his face showed above the
