coming.
'I tried to rescue you last night, but I would have been killed by Coffran's big Mexican except for the intervention of a man who I believe was The Shadow himself. Somehow, he freed you from the death chamber. I helped your Hindu servant bring you here.
'If you can shed any light on the affairs of Isaac Coffran, you may give us the clue that we need to explain the disappearances of three men - one from Trenton, one from Richmond, one from Cleveland. Each vanished on a Tuesday. One week apart. It is Friday now; the last one, Meyers of Cleveland, has been gone three days.'
'A Tuesday night,' murmured Bruce Duncan. He counted on his fingers. 'Why, the first one must have gone just one week after-'
He paused.
'One week after what?' quizzed Harry Vincent.
'Vincent,' blurted Duncan, 'there's no use in trying to keep my secret any longer. I'm going to rely on you.'
DUNCAN felt relieved as he poured forth his story. He began with the mysterious visitor who had robbed the hiding place in the hearth. He told of his uncle's letter. He described the visit of Isaac Coffran, and his journey to the home of the man he believed to be his uncle's friend. He described the accidental reading of the last letter, and the terror he had known in the gas-filled study. The escape by the elevator was news to Harry Vincent; from then on, the account was plain. 'What do you think about it?' asked Duncan when he had concluded.
'Just one thing I want to know,' said Harry. 'You mentioned the letter that you were reading in Coffran's study. What did it say, besides the accusation?'
Duncan's mind was groping. His thoughts seemed far away as he repeated:
'An attack in Singapore - a plot in Russia - an attempted murder in France - a man who told and died.
There was something else. I have it! Bernardo Chefano - the twisted lips - they will identify him no matter what disguise or alias he may use.'
'Ah!' exclaimed Harry. 'There's something! We can connect some one else with Isaac Coffran. Did the ape-man have twisted lips?'
'No,' said Duncan, 'he was hardly a man at all, as I remember. Of course the hashish had me pretty well doped that night. I might have seen anything. Bernardo Chefano. He can't be Pedro, either. Wait! Some one had charge of that strange creature that came into my room. Some one whistled outside. That might have been Pedro, of course. It couldn't have been old Coffran. So it may not have been this fellow Chefano after all.'
He happened to see the paper that lay on the foot of the bed. He had forgotten it.
'Look,' he said. 'Abdul gave me this. It fell out of Coffran's pocket the night he was at my house. Some one sent it to him. That indicates the extra man!'
''Find out what Duncan knows,'' read Harry. 'He found out what you know, all right, but not all.' Harry read again:
''Investigate personally.' He did that. Came to the house; most unusual for him.
''Prevent all interference.'
'That was Coffran's scheme all right. With you out of the way, there could be no interference - on your part at least, and the message deals with you.
''Plans are working perfectly.'
'What can that mean?'
Harry Vincent looked toward Bruce Duncan.
'It's got me stumped,' admitted Duncan. 'If the man from Russia had arrived, Chefano - assuming he wrote the note - would have the jewels by this time. The plans would not be working. They would have worked completely.'
'Yes,' agreed Harry, 'it means that something has been going on; that something will continue to go on.
We must think in terms of these three men who have disappeared. Can there be a connection between them and you?'
'I never heard of any of them. What did you say their names were?'
'Arthur Hooper, J. Howard Longstreth, Elbridge Meyers. Three men from different cities. One disappeared each Tuesday, beginning exactly a week after you had your experience.'
'I never heard their names before.' Bruce looked out the window, as if he sought relief there.
Harry Vincent paced across the room. Suddenly he stopped. A look of horror appeared upon his face.
'Duncan!' he exclaimed. 'I have it! It is horrible - it is fiendish! Only Isaac Coffran could have planned it!'
'What?'
'The crime that is still going on. Let me explain. Get my reasons. First, suppose that the messenger from Russia is not due to arrive immediately.
'In those stolen papers was a list of the names and addresses of the six men who were to receive their shares of the wealth. There was also a letter to your uncle, naming the time and place of meeting -
probably similar to those received by the others.
'The thief can appear to claim the wealth, posing as your uncle or his representative. But the others would be there, too. He would have to divide the money he received.'
'You don't mean -'
'You see it now, too. Fake notes to each of the six. Copies - forgeries - patterned after the note to your uncle. Notes that look authentic - setting the date ahead! One six weeks early, one five weeks early -'
'Vincent!' Bruce Duncan's exclamation expressed horror. 'I see it! Hooper - Longstreth - Meyers. Each of them is one of the six men! One by one they have been lured to the meeting place and there they -'
'They have died,' was Vincent's solemn announcement. 'But Duncan, there are three men more!'
'Three men more!' echoed Duncan. 'Men who we do not know. Men whom we cannot help. Men marked to die!'
CHAPTER XVIII. FELLOWS LEARNS SOMETHING
CLAUDE FELLOWS reclined comfortably in the cushions of the limousine and puffed a cigar in contentment. It was Friday evening; he was on his way to a party in New Jersey.
The chubby insurance broker had many wealthy friends. Most important of them all was Lamont Cranston, a millionaire who owned a fine estate in New Jersey, twenty miles outside of New York.
Cranston was holding the party to-night. He had sent one of his cars - chauffeur included - to bring Fellows.
Cranston was a good friend to have. Fellows had known him back in the days when the insurance business had been less prosperous. The millionaire had always given him encouragement. The only trouble was that Cranston was so often away. Like other persons of wealth, he apparently went South in the winter and North in the summer. It was said that he often traveled to Europe.
At any rate, it was an event when the big house in New Jersey was open and guests were invited.
Fellows had always felt that Cranston might have helped him out of his financial trouble a few years ago.
But that had occurred when the millionaire was away. Fellows had pulled out of his predicament, thanks to The Shadow. That had been his first experience with his mysterious employer.
Fellows had performed his services faithfully and well. He no longer had worries. Checks came in regularly, even when his insurance business was slow. He had never been able to identify The Shadow; now he was no longer curious about the matter.
To-day he had sent in a most important report. Harry Vincent had come to his office and had told of an interview with Bruce Duncan. Not only had Fellows learned of Isaac Coffran's fiendish schemes and the secret of Bruce Duncan's uncle; he had listened to a well-thought-out theory that Vincent had evolved.
All these matters had gone in the morning report. The stenographer had taken the envelope to the dingy office on Twenty-third Street. A reply had been received. It was a simple one - instructions to Harry Vincent to wait
